The Last Knight
by Ga3-Bolg
Summary: When Lily hears about the prophecy, she doesn't go into hiding. She falls back upon her upbringing as a magus, and instead thinks 'How can I turn this to my advantage? By studying her ancestor Mordred's body, she learns how to make a homunculus that would fool even Voldemort, and uses it to bait her trap. But, what happens when that homunculus survives? Multi X-over. M to be safe.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

_"Not Ivy, not Ivy, please not my daughter!" A voice was screaming, her mind noted. The voice was familiar, she knew, but something was different about it now. It came from the red-haired woman standing with her back to Ivy, a bright white light illuminating the tears dripping down her face. Ah, that was it. It was the screaming and the tears. A small bubble of panic welled up inside her._

_"Stand aside you silly girl. Stand aside, now, and I will spare you." It was a high-pitched voice that spoke this time, seeming to come from the bright light behind the woman. Looking closer, Ivy could identify that the light formed the shape of a person._

_"Not Ivy, please no, take me, kill me instead - Not Ivy! Please, have mercy. Have mercy! Not Ivy! Not Ivy! Please, I'll do anything!" This might be really bad, Ivy registered faintly._

_"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" The unfamiliar voice commanded once more, volume rising, and a hint of irritation seeping into its tone._

_"No, no, no, no!" The woman screamed once more, even louder than before. "Please!"_

_The light lashed out at the woman, invading her body from every angle. In a matter of moments, her entire form was obscured within the bright light. Just as quickly, the light retreated from her body and she fell to the floor. The light continued to dissipate, soon fading out of existence to reveal a cloaked man. His red eyes gazed down at the woman on the floor in front of him. "I truly would have spared her too." He stated lightly as he stepped over her body, approaching the young girl the woman had tried to shield from him. His pale face contorted into a frown. "So, you are the one to vanquish me? Ridiculous."_

_The man's arm raised, pointing a stick at her face. "Avada Kedavra." He incanted, and a pale green light shot from the tip of the stick, directly at her forehead. Then it touched her, and her world became pain. It hurt - no other words seemed to describe the pain she felt, because those were the only words her mind was capable of producing. It. Hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, IT HURT!_

_Preoccupied as she was with the pain, her mind barely registered a dome of crimson fire surrounding herself and the cloaked man. "NO!" The man shouted as the dome began to collapse onto the pair of them. He whirled around, pointing his stick away from her and towards the oncoming wall of fire. The fire stopped dead a hair's breadth away from the man's face, meeting a shimmering golden shield that surrounded the pair of them. The pain in Ivy's body lessened the moment the stick turned away from her until she could once more think of something other than pain. And for a moment, Ivy saw the world standing still around her. Then the shield cracked, and Ivy watched as the fire rushed past her, solely focused on consuming the red-eyed man._

_She thought he might have screamed as the fire burned him away, but she couldn't tell for sure over the roaring of the flames and the lingering pain in her body. It burned away at the man until nothing of his body remained but ashes, and the pain Ivy felt finally dissipated completely. The purpose the fire had previously moved with seemed to suddenly disappear, and in the blink of an eye everything around Ivy was burning. She welcomed it. As the fire raged around her, all she recognized was the thing that had taken away the hurt, and she reached out to it, beckoning it to come to her. It answered. The fire flowed over to Ivy's young body, dancing and twisting around her, caressing her skin – but never burning her. Ivy gazed around herself in wonder as the fire burned away the house around her, and she reveled in it._

* * *

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

A chunk of metal as large as her head glowed orange on Ivy's anvil, little red sparks flying off of it as she brought her hammer down on it again.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

This much metal was far more than she would need for the eighteen-inch blade she meant to forge with it. That was fine though. This metal was impure, a blending of steel scraps taken from a sunken world war two submarine. Carefully selected pieces though they may have been, they were nowhere near high enough quality for the level of blade she aimed to forge. By the time she was done bringing the metal up to the standard she demanded to be forged into a blade, what was left would be only about the size of both of her fists put together.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Again, and again her hammer struck the metal until the bright orange glow faded to dull red, sparks of molten material chipping off with each blow. Her bare hand reached down to pick up the heated metal, now barely smaller than it was when she began hammering it out. She smiled, and turned to her 'forge'. Ivy had needed to rework her forge greatly for this dagger – it was her first experiment in forging a magical weapon that wasn't fire-based. To that end, she needed a way to heat the metal without fire. She had chosen to use steam, to match the water theme of the war-ship steel.

It had taken the young fire mage almost a week to rework her forge into a sort of ceramic steam hood that would capture and hold the gaseous form of water at temperatures up to three thousand degrees Fahrenheit without warping or cracking. Four tungsten steel rods crossed the bottom of this steam hood, the ends protruding two inches on either side, and the center forming a square hole which Ivy placed the metal in her hand upon. The water vapor had cooled some since she had first heated the material, and had begun to drip down into the steel tub that formed the bottom of her steam forge. That was something Ivy could easily fix.

Her hands touched the surface of the water, bringing it to two hundred and twelve degrees near instantly, a new cloud of steam drifting up to be caught by the hood above. Still, two hundred twelve degrees was almost two thousand less than the forging temperature of steel. This was the secondary purpose of having Tungsten Steel rods lining the bottom of her steam hood. Her hands came up to grasp the protruding edges of the Tungsten Steel rods, and slowly, she activated her magic.

This was the most difficult stage of the process. In order to keep the experiment alive, she couldn't allow any fire into this process. The flame within her needed to stay within her, only the heat could make it past her skin. A single slip in her focus would mean beginning again with new steel, untouched by her fire. As if this wasn't difficult enough for her, she also needed to rotate between all eight points where the rods protruded from her forge to ensure even heat through the whole forge. The one plus to her setup though was that she'd made the steam hood tall enough to ensure convection currents in the water vapor would help spread the heat evenly and bring her metal to forging temperature faster than an ordinary forge. In this way, her war-ship steel reached two thousand two hundred degrees quickly, and Ivy's bare hand once again carried the heated metal back to her anvil.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The hammering began again. The cycle continued in this manner from when Ivy had begun in the morning well into the night. Finally, long after Ivy had lost track of the number of cycles in the forge, she deemed the now high-quality metal good enough to become a blade. One more cycle in the forge brought her steel up to temperature again, and Ivy began hammering the metal into shape. She began slowly and carefully, first drawing the metal out into a long brick. Once she was satisfied with the length, she picked up a new tool from her workbench, looking like a small axe head with a blade on one side and a flat hammer head on the other. She carefully lined up the blade of her tool on the center of her little metal brick, and she brought her hammer down on the back of it. A few more powerful blows of her hammer drove the hot-cut tool nearly all the way through the center of her brick. After removing her cutting tool, she poured anti-oxidizing flux over the back of her metal and carefully folded it over. Then she brought it back over to her forge and brought the metal back up to over two thousand two hundred degrees, slowly forging her metal brick into a billet. Her hammer finished the process of forging the metal back together and she smiled. One down, fourteen more to go.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

With fifteen folds finally completed, Ivy once more hammered out her steel billet. When it finally reached the eighteen-inch length she desired, she hammered a long tang into the base of the blade and chopped of the leftover steel. Two more cycles in her forge first hardened, then tempered Ivy's blade. A high-pressure water jet took the place of a belt sander in cleaning it up and carving a short fuller down the center of her blade. Once she finally had a smooth, shiny blade, she turned away from her anvil and forge to the workbench behind her. She had already completed the other three parts of her blade the previous day, and they laid on the workbench in front of her now.

The small bronze cross-guard slid on the tang first, the metal taken from the ram of an ancient Greek trireme ship. An ash wood handle slid on next, taken from a tree with its roots grown underwater. It had been wrapped in the skin of a sea serpent, then in cloth made from sea silk produced by a species of clam in the Mediterranean in the same manner as the wrap of a katana hilt. The pommel fit on the end of the tang, made from the same bronze as the guard. Two pearls were fastened to each side of the pommel, grown from oysters found in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Britain, and probably the least expensive item she'd needed to attain for this sword. She held her breath as the pommel slid into place. If she had screwed up at this stage, that would mean that she had wasted two whole days of work. With a soft little click, the pommel nestled snugly up to the wrapped hilt – with a centimeter of the tang sticking out of the end. Ivy's thumb gently brushed across the centimeter of the tang sticking out of the round pommel, her blood boiling hot.

The end of the tang heated quickly as her magic ran through her body, yet not a single spark escaped. To expose her blade to fire now would ruin everything she had slaved sleepless over for the past forty-eight hours. She took a small hammer in her other hand, and moved her thumb out of the way as she gently hammered the end of the tang. Alternating between her thumb and her hammer, she was able to heat and tamp the tang down on the end of the pommel quickly, securing the parts of her blade together. Ivy exhaled. With a slowness borne of anxiety and nerves, she closed her right hand around the hilt of her new sword.

Ivy's family - descended from Arturia Pendragon through Mordred - had begun with steel. After the King's death at Camlann, Mordred had tried to gather the rest of the Knights of the Round to keep the kingdom from collapsing. None had agreed to aid her, many instead fighting her over the role they perceived she had in causing Arthur's death. In the end, Mordred had amassed most of the weapons and armor of the knights of the round, but none of the people who had wielded them.

Over Mordred's tenure as the mysterious "Last Knight of the Round", a wandering knight who never spoke nor allowed their face to be seen, she collected the remaining arms of her once fellow knights, including the shards of Caliburn. Only Excalibur and Avalon remained apart from her collection. When Mordred finally settled down after slaying her mother, Morgana Le Fay, who she held as the one with the greatest responsibility for the death of the King, her son inherited and grew her collection of the deadliest weapons on the planet. By the time Ivy was born, it was the largest and deadliest collection of weapons from all corners of the planet, from three Masamune swords, to dozens of Aztec knives and daggers, to Laevateinn, the sword of Loki. Ivy had grown up with a few of the simpler ones as decorations around the house, although "simple" in this case really meant weapons that wouldn't kill people for touching them and looked to a casual non-magical observer to actually be decorations instead of weapons capable of casually wiping out a city block. Clarent itself hung most prominently on the mantle above the fire as a silent homage to their ancestor, Mordred.

Ivy had sworn that she would add a weapon of her own to their massive collection, and had earnestly studied each of the nine legendary blades casually sitting around her home. She'd begun converting her workshop to a forge when she was eight, and was never more grateful for the enhanced strength her ancestor's dragon's blood granted her. Her blades improved massively in the first year, but she seemed to hit a cap in her forging then, being unable to imbue her blades with the same great magics as the blades in her home. When she had turned ten, she had finally been permitted to see the rest of the collection, now large enough to fill an entire (warded to the gills) warehouse from floor to ceiling. An elevator installed in the corner of the warehouse was still barred from her, the weapons under the warehouse highly cursed or otherwise too deadly for her to be allowed to see yet, but that was only a few dozen armaments. In front of her now there were thousands. Earnest study of these weapons led her to one conclusion. The material of each of these weapons was completely imbued with magic from the beginning. Cursed weapons were made with a monster's bone, or steel quenched in blood. Divine weapons were made with divinity, a god's hand in their forging obvious – many of them were made in forms that should never have been effective weapons yet were still deadlier than almost anything else on the planet. Holy weapons were made perhaps from the nails holding together an old church. Ivy had to use materials that were themselves already magical.

Ivy began her experiments with fire. She had forged her first blade from the grates of a grill, with middling success. The steel was slightly more accustomed to fire magic, and took to the enchantments a little easier than the control blade she'd forged out of a regular steel bar. In her next experiment, the blade had been melted and cast from an ancient Greek bronze brazier. The enchantments took much more readily in the older metal and the strength of the fire increased noticeably. Emboldened by her success, Ivy made thirteen more fire blades from similar bronze. The strongest of them was a Greek-style xiphos cast from bronze heated by Greek Fire, the hilt and scabbard wrapped in the shed skin of the hundred-headed drakon Ladon (which the Hesperides now sold so they could pay the cable bill). She'd named it καύμα, or Kavma, meaning burn in Ancient Greek. Ivy had next forged a set of Iron armor – gauntlets, greaves, and a breastplate – from the rest of the grill she'd used to make her first fire sword "so that she could wear flaming armor", proving that she was indeed a ten year old tomboy despite her great talent as a blacksmith.

Almost a year later, Ivy was ready to forge a different kind of sword. The world war two submarine from which she'd gotten her steel had been part of a combined magical and non-magical unit. She'd taken only the enchanted parts of it, or rather her Uncle, who was a treasure hunter had sought it out for her. The Greek Trireme her uncle had also tracked down and from which she'd taken her bronze was similarly enchanted. The pearls in the pommel were commissioned from the Edelfelt family for a pretty penny and filled with a water spell that packed as much magic as could reasonably fit in a pearl. The hilt, and sea silk of her grip were both enchanted by her family for the stunning dearth of ancient water enchanted wood and cloth commercially available. Her Uncle had tracked down the young sea serpent whose skin was also part of the grip, and she had slain it and prepared the skin herself. Ivy had chosen each of these items carefully for the strongest magical connection to water, even adapting her forge to use heated water and eliminate any trace of fire in the forging process.

Now, Ivy held in her hands the culmination of a month's worth of research and acquisition, and forty-eight hours of sleepless work. Slowly, and carefully, she channeled her magic into the blade, doing her best to keep it at a low temperature and desperately praying it didn't burst into flames. With her eyes focused on the blade, she didn't notice the effects at first. A soft sloshing sound is what drew her attention to the water in the quench tank behind her. In defiance of gravity, the water was pressed against the side closest to her, leaving the other side bone dry. She next noticed the steam hanging in the workshop and clinging to her body rapidly dissipating, drawn to the blade held in her grip. She eagerly pumped more magic into the blade, the water in her forge and her quench tank veritably leaping to her outstretched hand. It rapidly flowed up and around her hand on the hilt, extending the width of the blade an inch and the length to about twenty feet. Hurriedly, she pointed the now massive blade at the other end of her workshop. Luckily, she had years ago built a testing range at the other end of her forge, and the blade just barely fit the distance. Just as well, her magic was keeping the water in place so it didn't noticeably affect the weight of the blade.

_'Still,'_ she thought. _'Wielding a twenty-foot blade in battle would be quite difficult.'_ As if in response to her thoughts, the water pulled back into itself, the strain on her magic increasing greatly as the pressure shot up, until she was left holding a five-foot blade with ironically greater difficulty than it took to hold the twenty foot blade. The water roiled angrily against her magic, above all else desiring to slip its restraints. A manic grin stretching her lips wide, she aimed the tip of her blade at her target, a mannequin she had cast from iron. Then she let it go.

THWOOOOOM!

With a massive sound like a cannon going off, Ivy was knocked over by the recoil, her sword tumbling out of her grasp. A massive fog bank obscured her view of the target, created by the water that had instantly boiled the moment she released control of it. Grasping the sword that had clattered to the ground beside her, she pushed a small amount of her magic into it, focusing on pulling the fog away to restore her sight. When visibility returned, she held a three-foot blade in her hands. At the sight before her, the blade clattered to the ground again, accompanied by a small splash.

The left arm of her iron mannequin lay on the ground against the back wall. The rest of the mannequin lay ten feet away, bent double at the chest where the water had impacted it. A gaping hole on the left of its torso glowed cherry red from the passing of the scalding hot water that must have sliced through it like a hot knife through butter. The concrete of the back wall had finally stopped the compressed water jet, leaving a crater four feet deep and two feet across. "Whoa…" she breathed out.

BANG!

"Eeeegyah!" Ivy exclaimed in surprise as the door to her workshop slammed open.

"Hello young lady." Ivy turned around to face the intruder in her workshop, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Ehehehe." Ivy nervously chuckled, her hand coming up to scratch the back of her head. "Hello Aunt Petunia."

A tall, dark haired woman stood in front of Ivy, her arms crossed over her chest. Despite their relationship, the two women could not have looked more different. Whereas Ivy had light blonde hair and tanned skin, Aunt Petunia's hair bordered on black, contrasting greatly with her pale skin. Ivy's exotic green eyes and slit pupils were directly opposite of her Aunt's beady black eyes. Aunt Petunia towered over Ivy, standing at six feet tall opposed to Ivy's four feet, short even for an eleven-year-old girl.

Their personalities were directly opposite as well. Ivy was a boisterous tomboy, delighting in a day's work in her forge. Petunia Dursley wore skirts and dresses and spoke in a refined and delicate manner. Yet all the same, they both gave off the same air of self-confidence and assurance leaving no doubt as to their relation.

"Do you happen to recall what your uncle and I told you about testing your weapons Ivy?" Aunt Petunia inquired.

"To not do it unsupervised." She replied, casting her gaze off to the side.

"And do you further remember," Aunt Petunia carried on. "Exactly what we said about staying up all night in your workshop?"

"Huh?" Ivy looked up at her Aunt questioningly. "Umm, what time is it exactly?"

"What time do you think it is young lady?"

"Eleven O'Clock?" Ivy asked, drawing out the eleven in a lilting tone.

"It is currently three in the morning Ivy."

"Oooh." Ivy said, an unrepentant grin stretching across her face. "My bad."

Aunt Petunia sighed, a small frown drawing across her lips. "Get to bed young lady. We're heading to Diagon Alley in six hours."

"Wait, that's today? Awesome!" Ivy exclaimed, darting around her Aunt towards the door of her workshop. "I'lljustbeheadingtobednowthen." She said in a rush.

"And Ivy?" Aunt Petunia inquired, a small smirk on her lips as her niece stopped just before she could reach the door behind her.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Ivy asked, turning around to once more face her Aunt with a nervous smile.

"You're grounded for a week."

"Oh."

* * *

A/N: This is my first fic, so I suspect the quality of my writing will get better with time. PM me or leave a review with any mistakes you catch, and I'll fix them right away. I'll answer any questions with a PM, even if my answer is just that I'll answer your question in a later chapter.

If you didn't read the summary, this is going to be a Multi Cross-over. I currently have plans to incorporate ideas and characters from obviously Fate Stay Night, and Harry Potter, but also Lord of the Rings and Percy Jackson. More will be included later, but I haven't really planned in exacting detail what I'm doing when. If any of these aren't your cup of tea, I'm sure there's something else out there for you to read, but thanks for giving this a shot.

Ga3_Bolg out.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

The hour-long drive from Surrey to London was not an especially long one, although to the young Ivy it seemed to be the longest trip she'd ever taken. That was because today was the day she would finally be getting her wand. The Evans family had been a family of mages since Mordred's son began studying his grandmother's craft, but unfortunately for Ivy, she seemed nearly incapable of any wandless magic that didn't have something to do with fire. Instead of fruitlessly studying the Evans family magics, Ivy had chosen to attend Hogwarts so she could learn wand-magic, which any mage could learn regardless of elemental affinity. Needless to say, she was almost bouncing out of her seat such was her excitement. She only regretted that her cousin Dudley had chosen the opposite, and continued to excel in the family magics. "Calm yourself young lady, if you burn your seat you will be grounded for a month."

"Sorry Aunt Petunia." Ivy replied as she attempted to still her racing heart. Unfortunately for Ivy, she was a little too excellent at fire magic. Quite often when she got emotional, her body would unconsciously leak some of its magic in the form of fire. Even her body temperature was constantly near eight degrees higher than anybody else, leading to a lot of confusion and a few confundus charms with her school nurses and doctors. She had progressed far in learning to control her magic since then, but some incidents still occurred, especially when she dreamed. Sadly, this made her sheets a regular casualty in the Dursley household. "Will the Potters be there today?"

Aunt Petunia's grip on the steering wheel tightened in response to Ivy's question. "I don't know." She responded frostily, effectively shutting down further conversation on that topic. Lily Potter and Petunia Dursley mixed like oil and water. One was fiery and passionate, the other cold and calculating. One widely regarded as one of Wizarding Britain's most beautiful women, the other seen as quite plain-looking. One was an instinctive master at magic, the other barely able to hang on through hard work and dedication. Lily and Petunia's relationship had been rather testy as children, fraught with jealousy and resentment, but even still, they were sisters, and Petunia had been willing to make the effort to stay connected with Lily. Then Ivy had happened.

Through the Order of the Phoenix, Lily had caught wind of a prophecy describing a person who could defeat a dark lord, and more importantly, the fact that Voldemort believed he was the dark lord the prophecy referred to. Sensing an opportunity to orchestrate his downfall, Lily sought to create the conditions that the prophecy mentioned. Thus, on the 31st of July, instead of announcing the birth of her firstborn son Harry James Potter and his younger twin Rose Lucy Potter, the wizarding world learned of Ivy Potter. In reality, Ivy was a homunculus that Lily had created using the magics passed down in the Evans family from their ancestor, Morgana Le Fay and the body of Mordred as a template and DNA source. And so, Harry and Rose remained safe and hidden while news of Ivy traveled to the ears of Lord Voldemort. The fidelius charm that would protect the Potters was given directly to the spy in the Order of the Phoenix, and two more homunculi created to fool Voldemort into believing he had caught James and Lily Potter unprepared and without their wands. In his haste, Voldemort fell for the elaborate trap, and was defeated.

However, something happened that night that Lily did not expect. Ivy had survived. Unexpectedly confronted by Dumbledore with the child she had created, Lily denied her responsibility to care for Ivy. The homunculi were simply tools that ensured Voldemort's defeat, not actually people she reasoned. Likely the only reason it had even survived the trap was the dragon's blood it had inherited from Mordred giving it a resistance to fire. However, she recognized her responsibility in the matter, so she would take it off of his hands and dispose of it. The old headmaster refused to hand Ivy over to Lily, believing that if there was even a chance that the homunculus child was capable of developing a soul, he would not murder it so casually. He then approached Petunia with the child and asked if she would be willing to allow Ivy the chance to grow. Much to Dumbledore's delight, she had agreed. And so, only Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Potters, and the Dursleys ever knew what really happened to little Ivy, and consequently the Evans sisters were no longer close to each other.

It made family reunions especially awkward when Ivy and Dudley, and Harry and his younger sister Rose got along famously and their respective Mothers/Aunts wouldn't even look at each other. Even their husbands, James and Vernon, got along very well, although James was never quite certain how to act around Ivy.

Lily's opinion of her didn't really matter much to Ivy though. She'd been raised with care by her sort of Aunt and Uncle, even if she sometimes thought Aunt Petunia was far too strict. She had a few good friends in the form of her sort of cousin Dudley and her sort of brother Harry and his twin sister Rose. So, what did it matter if she didn't have a last name? She didn't lose sleep over whether she should be called Potter, Evans, or Dursley (or even Pendragon given that she was literally a copy of Mordred). Nobody important to her cared how she was born so she didn't either. She did have a slight fear that the pure-blood dominated wizarding world might look down on her for that, but Harry and Rose would also be starting Hogwarts this year as well so she wasn't worried about being alone at all.

All in all, Ivy was very much looking forward to her first year at Hogwarts. In fact, she was so excited, that she could almost be forgiven for saying what she did next. "Are we there yet?" An echoing groan was her only response.

* * *

Ivy had been to Diagon alley before, mainly when her Aunt needed magical reagents for her spells or potions. Occasionally, her Uncle came through Diagon Alley to buy something he needed for his job as a treasure hunter, or to sell something he had found on a hunt. Somehow, this trip seemed more magical than any previous trip. Perhaps it was because this trip was for her rather than her relatives. Maybe she felt that way because she would soon be learning how to perform the magic that she was seeing for herself. Regardless, Ivy was eagerly looking forward to this trip. Consequently, the ten-minute search for a place to park and the three-block walk to the leaky cauldron seemed to Ivy to be longer than the trip itself, but Petunia and Ivy were finally standing in the brick archway leading to Diagon Alley.

"It will take time for your robes to be prepared, so we will measure you for your robes first." Aunt Petunia stated calmly. "While you are being fitted, you may decide the order in which we will pick up your school supplies."

"Thanks Aunt Petunia!" Ivy exclaimed, taking her hand and pulling her into the alleyway. "Come on then, let's go!" It didn't talk long for Ivy to shoulder their way through the crowd, and the pair quickly entered Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions.

As soon as they entered the store, they were intercepted by an elderly woman in mauve robes embroidered with 'Madam Malkin's' in fancy cursive script and a matching hat. "Hogwarts fittings are through the back dear." She explained, already ushering the pair through the store. "Girls are on the left, but you'll have to wait a minute or two for the other young lady inside to finish up her fitting. Have a nice day!" Before Ivy could so much as blink, the other woman had seemingly teleported back to the front of the store with her Aunt, chattering at her at a mile a minute. Leaving her aunt to suffer the chatty assistant alone, Ivy stepped into the women's changing room she'd been directed to enter.

Just as Ivy entered, another blonde girl passed by her on her way out. "Hey Daphne." Ivy stated cheerfully. The two young girls had met thanks to Ivy's uncle. Vernon Dursley had a reputation in the wizarding world as a guy who could find you anything it was legal to possess, and was often hired by the richest and oldest families. He'd once brought Ivy to a meeting with Daphne's father, Bertilak Greengrass. The two had hit it off when Ivy discovered Daphne was an elemental like her, with control over ice. Outside of her family, Daphne and her best friend Tracey Davis were Ivy's only friends.

"Ivy." Daphne said coolly.

"We're finally going to Hogwarts, huh?" A massive grin spread across Ivy's face

"Calm down Ivy." Daphne stated, holding a hand up in front of her. "We still have another month before term officially begins."

"Eh? Aren't you excited at all? We're finally getting our wands and stuff you know!" Ivy exclaimed.

"Unlike you, my family never studied wandless magic at all." Daphne replied. "I actually got my wand last year, not that my family taught me many spells."

"Oh, yeah I forgot about that. But still," Ivy jabbed her finger at Daphne's chest. "You could at least smile a bit, this is your one and only first school year. Think of all the magic we can finally learn."

Daphne finally allowed a small smirk to appear on her lips. "I must admit, I am looking forward to the beginning of term with you and Tracey. Do try to get into Slytherin with us if you can."

"No way! But I'll save a spot for you guys in Gryffindor with me." Ivy countered.

Daphne giggled softly, a full smile finally showing on her face. "I'm meeting Tracey at Fortescue's in half an hour." She said, changing the topic. "Can you meet us there when you finish your school shopping?"

At this, Ivy's face lost its massive grin, and she started scratching the back of her head sheepishly. "Well, you see, ummm…" She trailed off.

"You're grounded again." Daphne finished for her, one eyebrow arched.

"Ah, yeah." Ivy perked back up quickly, never one to stay down for long. "But I finished that water sword I've been working on for the last month, and it's awesome!"

"You stayed up all night working on it didn't you." Daphne stated flatly, crossing her arms and staring her down in a manner eerily similar to how Aunt Petunia had that very morning. "You need to take care of your body better than you do Ivy, you know as well as I do that-"

"I'm fine, Daphne." Ivy cut her off. "And I also blasted a crater in the wall of my workshop too, so I'm grounded for a whole week now. Aunt Petunia won't even let me finish testing my sword!"

"Maybe this will finally teach you proper safety protocol then." Daphne replied dryly. "We can always hope."

Ivy gasped dramatically. "Not you too Daphne! I was totally safe, you know? My babies will never hurt me!"

"You just said you blasted a crater in the wall of your workshop." She responded, unimpressed with Ivy's lackadaisical response to her concerns. "That sounds at least a little unsafe. And I know you can't be hurt by any of your fire swords, but this is a different element than your own. Water under enough pressure to crater concrete could even kill you."

"Finnneee." Ivy capitulated, dragging the word out like a petulant child. "I'll do it _safely._"

"That's all I ask." Daphne said, directing a superior smirk Ivy's way at her victory.

"Tch." Ivy grunted.

"On that note," Daphne continued. "Have you thought of a name for your water sword yet?"

"Noooo." Ivy sulked. "I wanted to see everything it could do first, which is what the _testing phase_ is for. I'll have to wait a whole week before I can do that now."

"You have no one to blame for that but yourself you know. At least this way you have a whole week to brainstorm possible names. Maybe you'll end up with a better name for this sword than Kavma."

"No way!" Ivy protested. "Καύμα is a wonderful name for a Greek-style fire sword!"

"You could have been a little more creative than calling a Greek fire sword 'burning' in Greek." Daphne said sassily.

"That's why it's perfect!" Ivy countered. "Besides, nobody speaks Greek anyway and it sounds like an _awesome_ name even when you don't know what it means."

Daphne brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she giggled "Why don't you head on in and get measured for your robes now?" Daphne directed her. "I still need to meet with my father at the book store. I'll see you at Hogwarts Ivy."

"Alright, I'll seeya later Daphne." Ivy said as she resumed her walk into Madam Malkin's fitting room.

Madam Malkin wore the same mauve robe as her chatty assistant up front, but she had foregone the hat. She was a short woman in smart looking glasses, and was even older than her assistant. "Step up on this footstool here dear and we'll get you fitted. What's your name dear?"

"I'm Ivy." She introduced herself.

"I'm Madam Malkin, Ivy dear." She responded, grabbing a plain black robe off of a nearby dresser. "Put this on for me please." She instructed. As Ivy complied, she pulled several boxes of pins out of a nearby dresser. Madam Malkin soon set to bustling around her, pinning up the black robe in various places. "First year at Hogwarts dear? I remember my first year all too well." As the elderly shopkeeper launched into several tales of her 'younger days', Ivy let her attention wander away.

"That's you done dear." Madam Malkin said as she put the last pin in place and removed the pinned-up robe from over Ivy's head. "We'll have the Hogwarts set done in twenty minutes, and I can finish telling you about Ernie from charms class when you come to pick them up."

"Ah, that's fine Madam, but we're on a tight schedule today." Ivy said, waving her arms in front of her nervously.

"Are you sure dear?" She inquired "I was just getting to the part where Ernie spelled everyone's clothes to randomly switch with the nearest person every forty-two seconds."

"Really," Ivy giggled nervously. "I'm sure."

"Well, alright then." Madam Malkin gazed at her imperiously over her smart-looking glasses. "Remember to pick up your robes in twenty minutes."

"Yes Madam." Ivy bit out. As she turned around and fled the shop, Madam Malkin grinned at her retreating back and snickered.

Upon exiting the dressing rooms in the back, Ivy noticed Aunt Petunia was still up in the front with the chatty assistant, trying (and failing) to look politely interested in the conversation. They both locked identically twitching eyes.

"Ivy!"

"Aunt Petunia!"

The pair exclaimed at the same time. "It was nice to speak with you Lucy, but my niece and I are on a tight schedule." Aunt Petunia quickly bit out to the assistant. "Have a nice day."

As the pair turned and fled, the assistant grinned at their retreating backs and snickered.

The rest of the trip was, thankfully, much less harrowing for Ivy and her Aunt. Aunt Petunia had brought along enough money for the trip, so the pair were able to avoid the cart roller coaster at Gringotts as well. As such, their next stop was Flourish and Blott's. This time, they were not accosted upon entering.

Flourish and Blott's gave off the cozy feel of an eccentric scholar's well lived in study. Many of the books were loosely organized into subjects, but a significant portion of them were piled high in stacks around the floor. Several such stacks stood between the pair and the reception desk. Ivy and her Aunt had to carefully weave through them to get to the front desk where a middle-aged man sat smoking a pipe with his feet up on the desk. As Ivy drew closer, she was able to identify the scent as that of a tobacco pipe.

"Welcome to Flourish and Blott's." The man spoke up with a small smile. "There are some who call me... Tim. Here for the Hogwarts package?"

"Yes sir!" Ivy said.

Tim chuckled at her enthusiasm. His feet slipped off the desk between them as he leaned forward. "First year bundles are the short stacks of books to your left, and second year bundles are the stacks to your right. The bundles each come with five notebooks, two quills, and three inkpots." He explained. "Is there anything else I can help you find today?"

"Do you have any books on forging techniques or legendary weapons?" Ivy asked, a glint in her eye.

"Ivy," Aunt Petunia cut in. "I will only be paying for the supplies you need for school. Any other books you wish to buy will be coming out of your allowance."

"Oh." Ivy's face froze. "I'd still like to see what you have at least."

"Very well." Tim stood and made his way around the desk. "If you'll follow me down here," He began, striding off deeper into the maze of bookshelves. He came to a stop in front of what seemed to be the smallest bookshelf Ivy had ever seen, five books coming close to filling it. "We have a small selection of books on weapons and weapon crafting."

"That's it?" Ivy asked, disappointed.

"Afraid there's not much call for it these days, you know. You've either got a goblin blade or you can conjure a normal one." Tim replied. He took a puff of his pipe.

Ivy reached for the thickest book first, hoping that it would be a more detailed guide than any of the others. "'A treatise on the non-combat applications of the mighty flail', by THE SMASHER." She read.

"Oh, yes…" Tim trailed off. "Quite a good author THE SMASHER. Changed the face of construction work forever."

"_Construction _with a_ flail?!" _Ivy exclaimed. "How does that even… never mind, I don't want to know." She decided, stuffing THE SMASHER's treatise back on the shelves.

"Yes, THE SMASHER was quite an ingenious man." Tim mused. "All five of our books in this section are his works. I personally recommend 'A short blurb on the history of the mighty flail of THE SMASHER and the inferiority of bladed weaponry in comparison'. 'Twas his last work, but it was left unfinished. Now we shall never know how bladed weaponry is inferior to the mighty flail."

"I think I'll just take the first-year package thank you." Ivy said faintly, a shell-shocked look on her face.

"Are you sure?" Tim questioned "I've got just the book for you right here." He reached down and pulled out the smallest of the five books.

"No thank you." Ivy replied. "Just the – oh." Held in Tim's hands was most certainly not THE SMASHER's last, lamentably unfinished work. A small golden magical circle was embossed in the center of the leather cover, directly below the golden lettering that spelled the books name – Magyks of Metal, by A.F. Ivy's experienced eye quickly discerned that it wasn't just golden lettering she was looking at. This book had been embossed with real gold leaf.

"I thought this might be what you were looking for." Tim spoke up softly. "But you have to admit, I had you going there." He chuckled at the gob-smacked expression on Ivy's face

"Yeah…" She trailed off, grasping the book – almost more of a journal really – gently. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, this is what I'm looking for."

"Excellent!" Tim said, looking pleased with himself. He turned around, headed back towards his desk. "I'll ring this up for you then. Is there anything else I can help you find?" He questioned her with a broad smile on his face.

"No." Ivy said, grinning back at him. "This is perfect."

"Let's see then… One Hogwarts package with The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and writing supplies, plus Magyks of Metal." Tim mumbled to himself. "That will be sixteen galleons for the Hogwarts bundle, and two Galleons ten Sickles for Magyks of Metal."

After Ivy and her Aunt paid, they left Flourish and Blott's much happier than when they had left Madam Malkin's, with Ivy's purchases in a bag slung over her shoulder. An uneventful stop at the apothecary left Ivy with her cauldron, potions vials, and brass scales also weighing her down, while her Aunt went to grab her a telescope for astronomy. They met back up at Madam Malkin's. After a brief moment of hesitation, the pair cautiously made their way inside, resolved to grab their package and flee.

"Oh, hello again Petunia dear. So good to see you again so soon." Lucy greeted them. "You're just on time. Your young lady's robes were just finished a moment ago. I'll go fetch them for you dear." With that, she bustled off into the shop's back room, returning a moment later with a bundle of black fabric in her arms.

"Thank you very much." Aunt Petunia replied, her lips pressed tightly together. "How much do I owe you?"

"Still in a rush dear?" She replied. "Oh, when I was your age I was always rushing around everywhere. Never had the time to slow down and listen to an old lady tell her tale. I must have even seemed a little rude to all those people I just _couldn't_ find the time for." She said in that same manner that all old people seem to develop just to make you feel like crap.

Aunt Petunia wasn't having any of it. "Yes," She replied. "Some people just can't take a hint can they? Ah, but I must not have been listening, how much did you say we owe you?"

Lucy pursed her lips tightly looking offended in that same way only old people can manage. "Twelve Galleons, six sickles dear."

Aunt Petunia handed over the money, and the pair of them left, feeling as if the eyes of the assistant were tracking their departure. Once out of sight of the shop, the duo shared an uncomfortable shudder. Catching the motion out of the corner of their eyes, the pair turned to look at each other. Aunt Petunia's mouth twitched into her stern version of a smirk and Ivy giggled.

"Nice burn Aunt Petunia."

"Whatever do you mean young lady? I am always a perfectly civil conversationalist." Aunt Petunia replied innocently, sending Ivy into another round of giggling. "Come along now, we have one more stop to make before we return home."

Ollivander's wand shop, purported to have been in business since three-hundred eighty-two B.C., was one of the most unremarkable shops in Diagon Alley. The dull brown paint was peeling. The once shiny gold lettering had long since lost its luster. These factors, plus the dusty windows all blended together to give Ollivander's a tired look. The inside of the shop improved its aura little. The walls of the tiny shop were covered from floor to ceiling with boxes upon boxes of wands, and a thin layer of dust and cobwebs covered everything. Upon entering, they immediately noticed a tired-looking old man sitting behind the counter, slowly polishing one of the shops many wands. He seemed right at home among the tired old shop.

"You must be Mr. Ollivander. I am Petunia Dursley, and this is my niece, Ivy." Aunt Petunia said.

"Ah, yes. You must be from the Evans family." Ollivander mused. "Hmm. I am Garrick Ollivander. I assume young Ivy will be starting Hogwarts this year then?"

"Uh, Yeah." Ivy replied.

"Which is your wand arm?" Ollivander questioned.

"Both, but probably my left because I'll have a sword in my right."

"Oh?" Ollivander raised an eyebrow. A tap of his wand animated a tape measure lying on his desk, which began to fly around Ivy measuring several different dimensions. He stood up from his chair and made his way over to one of the many stacks of wands. He hummed as his fingers trailed over several of the boxes. "Let's see… Perhaps this one."

He gently tugged out one of the boxes near the bottom of the stack, handing the wand inside to her. Barely had it touched her hand before he yanked it back away from her. "No, certainly not." He placed the wand back down on his desk, and crossed to the other side of the room. The wand he selected next was near the top of the pile, and he required a rickety ladder to reach it. "Yew, dragon heartstring core. Try this one."

He allowed her the time to wave this wand, but it felt cold and dead in her grasp and produced no noticeable effect. "Hmm." He hummed to himself as he placed this one on the desk as well. He pulled three more boxes from the same stack, handing the first to her. "Blackthorn wood with dragon heartstring. This one may suit you better."

This time, she felt a small, uncomfortable tingling sensation when it touched her hand. A careless flick of this wand set a cobweb in the corner alight. Luckily, only the cobweb burned away, leaving the rest of the shop unburnt. Ollivander was quick to snatch this one away as well. "Better." He muttered to himself. "But not quite."

He put this wand onto the pile on the desk, as well as one of the two wands she had yet to try. He handed her the last of the three he had previously selected. "Ash wood, and a unicorn tail hair core. Thirteen inches, and quite inflexible." At first, this one seemed to be a good fit to Ivy. It felt warm and inviting when she grasped it. She eagerly gave this wand a quick flick upwards to test it out. A few small embers leaped out of the tip, forming into the shapes of different weapons she had seen or forged. They danced and twisted into new shapes for a few moments, before she felt a sudden pinprick sensation in her arm, making her drop the wand. The fiery armaments in the air immediately burst into a few small explosions, knocking over one of the shelves of wands.

"S-sorry sir!" Ivy exclaimed.

Contrary to Ivy's expectations, a broad grin formed on Ollivander's face. "Quite alright my dear. In fact, I believe I know just the wand for you." He quickly shuffled over to a corner shelf only half the height of most of the stacks in the shop, plucking one off the very bottom of the stack. Ivy gingerly picked up the wand she had dropped and placed it on the desk with the other rejected wands. Ollivander shuffled back over to her, handing her the wand. "Ash wood with a dragon heartstring core, thirteen and one quarter inches, inflexible. A very powerful and stubborn wand."

This one Ivy did not even have to wave. As soon as she grasped it, a small fiery dragon leapt out of the tip, barely more than three inches long. It trilled gently as it flew around the shop, coming to rest on her shoulder briefly, before it flared out of existence. "I see. This wand will excel equally in both the dark arts and defense against the dark arts, however you will find the subtler aspects of charms and transfiguration quite difficult to cast with this wand." He paused for a moment. "That will be seven Galleons please."

* * *

A/N: There you have, it another chapter done. I will try to stick to one chapter a week every Saturday, but don't hold me to that. I tend to write when the inspiration strikes, and there really is no telling when that happens. That being said, expect the next chapter to take two or three weeks, because I have finals coming up. As always, I'll answer any questions with a PM, barring any spoilers. This chapter is un-beta'd (betad? betaed?) because I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer since its already been over a week since I posted this. All the same, I'm including a shout-out to my beta/sounding board/best friend (but actually my slave) Torxanen.

Ga3_Bolg out.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

That smirk.

_That smirk._

_THAT SMIRK._

"I'M GONNA BURN THAT SMUG LITTLE SMIRK OF YOUR FACE YOU JERKWAD!" Ivy screamed.

"Oh yeah?" Her cousin, Dudley Dursley taunted. "You couldn't hurt me even if I stood still."

"I'll show you what hurt feels like buddy." She growled in reply. Ever the picture of maturity, Dudley stuck out his tongue. This, apparently was the push that sent Ivy over the edge. A short bellow of anger escaped her as she charged at him, fists and hair streaming flame behind her. Ivy began with a quick right jab that Dudley knocked aside with his own right hand. Her fire hissed in protest, diminishing severely at the point of contact of their hands. Ivy leaped back instantly, avoiding Dudley's counter easily.

"Picked up a new trick Duds?" Ivy began. "That was-"

She was cut off as Dudley charged her this time, not giving her the time to puzzle out his new spell. That was fine by Ivy though. She learned best by doing instead of thinking. She ducked under his swinging right, coming up with an uppercut she had to abort in order to block the knee heading for her gut. She was in close now though, and neither of them could block the next blow. Dudley staggered back from her hit to his gut, her flames once again hissing as they impacted him, while she tanked his elbow on her back. Cold radiated from the spot where his elbow had struck, so Ivy brought her body's temperature up in response.

"Nice one." Ivy complimented Dudley. "An ice spell on your own body to keep my flames from burning you up too bad and to weaken me. And it's really cold too. How long can you keep it up though?"

"Long enough." Dudley said, his damnable smirk still in place. They charged once more. Fists and feet flew, just as many connecting as were dodged or blocked. Dudley rolled under her high kick, taking her other leg out from under her. He rose as Ivy crashed to the floor, just enough to come down on her in a vicious pile driver. Ivy barely managed to roll away in time, leaving Dudley to crater the floor instead of her gut. She rose instantly, managing to catch Dudley with a round house kick before he could put up his guard. He stumbled back into the wall dazed. Sensing weakness, Ivy closed with a right hook that Dudley barely managed to sway away from. Unfortunately for Ivy, she'd been to eager to end the fight, and got her fist stuck in the wall for a moment. That moment was all Dudley needed to slam a kick into her gut, sending her stumbling back. He stayed on her as she backpedaled, and it was all Ivy could do to redirect the next three blows. The fourth punch caught her in the cheek, and in response, she flared her fire as bright as she could for an instant.

The impromptu flash caught Dudley off guard. He stumbled back, blinking rapidly. Having learned her lesson from last time, Ivy sent three quick jabs into his face and his gut instead of committing to one massive blow. Dudley grunted in pain, but he wasn't out of the fight yet. He dropped under her next punch at his face, coming up with a sucker punch to her gut. Ivy's return hammer blow sent him crashing to the floor. Ivy dove down to grab him in a headlock, flaring her body heat high to protect from his ice spell.

"Tap out." She commanded, tightening her arm around his neck. Instead of responding, Dudley pushed more power into his ice spell to try to force her to let go. Ivy couldn't let such an obvious challenge go. She brought her power boiling to the surface of her skin. The air around them shimmered as it was instantly superheated and supercooled in turns. "Tap out Duds, I'm totally gonna win this." She repeated. Two taps rang through the cracked and cratered workshop. Ivy backed off of Dudley instantly, and paled when she realized the sound hadn't come from him. She and her cousin turned to the source of the sound simultaneously, both ashen-faced. Uncle Vernon stood in the door of the workshop; his hands still clapped together to show what had made the sound. Uncle Vernon was a large man. Easily reaching a height of six feet, his body rippled with lean, corded muscle. His brown hair was speckled with gray, the only visible size of his age on his body. Otherwise, he appeared to be a very fit man in his late twenties. He needed every inch of that athletic prowess to safely fulfill his job as a treasure hunter.

"You've both improved tremendously." He said, an easy grin on his face. "I truly would not have expected this level of destruction from a simple two-minute spar, in spell reinforced concrete no less." His hands dropped to his sides as he approached the pair slowly, making a show of inspecting the damages as he did so. Ivy cringed when he stopped near the blackened imprint of her fist burned into the wall.

"She did it." Dudley was quick to point out.

"Wha-? Hey!" Ivy exclaimed. "But you did-" She was cut off by the sound of Uncle Vernon chuckling.

"You can stop playing the blame game you two. I'm not going to punish one of you for this." Color slowly began to return to the young cousins' faces as the tension visibly left them. "All the same, what sparked the fight off this time?" He inquired.

"Ask her." Dudley said, thumbing in her direction. Ivy blushed, beginning to fidget slightly.

"Well, uh. I mean, the thing is, um." Ivy stammered out. "HegottonamemynewswordbutIwantedtodoit."

"In English please dear." Her Uncle responded.

"He named my new sword for me even though I wanted to do it."

"Uhhh…" Her Uncle trailed off. "That's it? Just rename it then."

Ivy blanched. "I can't do that now! It's already been Named!"

"I fail to see the problem here Ivy. Just call the pointy stick something else."

"Besides, it was an awesome name anyway." Dudley contributed. "Don't tell me you had a better one lined up, miss name your fire sword burning."

"Okay Uncle Daniel." Ivy responded heatedly. "You, me, Cousin John, and Aunt Lucy can all go off and start giving everything in here new Names."

"Swords are different from people Ivy," Uncle Vernon explained. "And, swords and even some people change their names sometimes. Like that one sword Narsil in our vault used to be called Anduril. Or how Caledfwlch then became Caladbolg and then Caliburn."

"And in each of those incarnations of those swords it became a different sword." Ivy countered. "Anduril was more of Narsil's child than Narsil itself, and the other three swords all had different partners and abilities. They were all completely different identities for those swords. Even humans only change their names when they change their identity. How do you not know this anyway, you track down treasures like that all the time?"

"I don't name them; I just find them." Uncle Vernon replied lightly. "What was it about Dudley's name that got you so angry anyway? Was it that terrible?"

"No, _Tempestas_ is as good a name as any I would have come up with, it's just…" Ivy trailed off.

"You wanted to do it yourself."

"Yeah." Ivy grunted out. She began walking towards the workshop door. "I'm gonna head to Daphne's to blow off some steam then." Uncle Vernon's hand came down on her shoulder as she passed him.

"You aren't going anywhere young lady."

"What?" She exclaimed. "I thought you said you weren't going to punish us?"

"I said that I wouldn't punish _one_ of you." Uncle Vernon smirked. "But there's no way I can let you both off after what I just saw. Both of you are grounded until you learn to throw a halfway decent punch."

Three weeks later:

Two monstrous creatures walked side by side. Their flesh was mottled with a riot of ugly purple, black, blue, and even yellowing skin spots. Their bodies appeared as if they were crafted by the worst stone carver the world had ever seen, covered as they were in bumpy welts. Many muggles would have run screaming from their hideous appearance, but the wizards occupying platform nine and three quarters were made of sterner stuff. They merely shuddered in disgust as they passed by the malformed duo.

Okay, they didn't really look that bad. Ivy and Dudley's punishment had lasted the entire three weeks remaining before Ivy was set to leave for Hogwarts, and the brawling pair had both come out the other side with a few ugly bruises to show for it. Ivy was worse off than Dudley; Uncle Vernon had decided she needed to learn how to fight more defensively while Dudley needed to learn to be more aggressive. This had generally meant she was used as Dudley's punching bag for most of their sessions. She did get to punch him back when she was learning defensive counters though so it wasn't all bad.

Uncle Vernon had also forbidden them from having their wounds magically healed. 'Pain is a great motivator,' He'd said. 'So learn how to deal with it, or avoid it.' Needless to say, she'd pretty quickly improved at blocking and dodging Dudley's attacks. Unfortunately, he'd also improved at punching her. Then she'd learned counter moves and quickly improved at punching him… Several of their 'lessons' after that had devolved into simple slugfests. Uncle Vernon was pleased. _The_ _sadist_.

"Remember to get your studies done before you run off to have fun Ivy," Aunt Petunia began. "And don't forget that your uncle and I are one letter away. Don't hesitate to ask us if you need anything."

"Thanks Aunt Petunia." Ivy said. Aunt Petunia's lips twitched into her subdued version of a smile.

"Run along now Ivy, you do not wish to be late."

Ivy picked up her trunk and hastened to comply. "Seeya at Christmas!" She exclaimed over her shoulder. With one more step, she boarded the train.

It should have felt more dramatic, she decided, beginning her Hogwarts journey. Boarding the train was a rather mundane start. All the same, it was her start, and she was going to start it well. She set off to find her friends. Daphne had said that she and Tracey would try to get a car in the back half of the train, and Ivy had no doubt that her friends had already arrived. Daphne would never stand for even the hint of being late and Ivy knew that Tracey had been at Daphne's the night before. She had also received the invitation, but had been _busy_.

Ivy was pleasantly surprised when she arrived at the compartment to find two others already inside. Harry Potter was a fairly athletic boy of average height. A pair of round glasses perched over his bright green eyes, partially obscured by a mop of messy black hair. He slouched in the compartment opposite Daphne. Sitting next to Harry was his twin sister. Rose Potter was nearly his opposite. Her long black hair fell straight, reaching down to her mid-back. Her eyes were the same sandy brown of her father, although unlike the males of her family she did not need glasses. She was much shorter than her twin as well, but where her twin often slouched, her posture was always straight, creating the illusion that they were similar in height. Then there was Tracey Davis.

Tracey was _Cute_. Auburn hair and freckles offset her baby blue eyes. A rounded face and a short stature only enhanced her pixie-like appearance. Looking at Tracey, one could be forgiven for expecting an innocent, naïve, wouldn't hurt-a-fly attitude. She was a demon. A mischievous streak a mile wide lay behind her cute little dimples. As long as Ivy had known Tracey, she'd never paid for a single thing she wanted. A nervous giggle had the old man at Florean Fortescue's paying for her Sundae. The angry man who shoved 'cute little Tracey' out of his way found his wallet just a little bit lighter when he got where he was going. If Tracey looked like a pixie, she was most certainly a vengeful little sprite. Currently, she was spread-eagled across the compartment's bench, face down and drooling in Daphne's skirt.

"Hey guys." Ivy said.

"Heeeeeyyy… Merlin's beard what happened to your face!" Harry exclaimed. The three people awake in the compartment turned to look at Ivy and they all blanched.

"Thanks guys." Ivy groused. "You're really making me feel beautiful here."

"You appear to have lost a fight with a troll Ivy, forgive us for our worry." Daphne snarked. Ivy laughed as she moved to sit next to Rose.

"Dud and I got into a bit of a fight over the name of my new sword." She explained.

"Looks like you lost pretty badly huh?" Harry teased.

"Nah, I totally won that fight." Ivy continued. "But Uncle Vernon saw us fighting. He informed us that we looked really pathetic and said we were grounded until we learned how to throw a decent punch."

"I suppose I expect no less barbarism from any person you would call Uncle." Daphne remarked.

"HEY!" Ivy, Harry, and Rose all exclaimed.

"He's awesome." Rose finished.

"My point is proven." Daphne said. "So who was the first magical ancestor of the Potter family? Eric the Bloodaxe perhaps?"

"Secret." Rose sing-songed.

"You are aware of the true definition of secret are you not?" Daphne inquired, one eyebrow arched.

"Do tell." Harry replied.

"Any piece of information that must be told to the nearest Daphne before anyone else may know of it."

"Rose misspoke I'm afraid." Ivy cut in. "It's not a secret at all; It's actually confidential."

"Ah, of course." Daphne said mock dramatically. "It's confidential. Why, doesn't that mean that it is a piece of information that must be told to the nearest Greengrass before all else?"

"But alas," Harry cut in again. "Both my sister and my cousin are sadly wrong. It is neither a secret nor confidential. You see what it is, is classified."

"I see," Rose nodded sagely. "And classified information is any piece of information that must be told to the nearest twin." Harry leaned closer to Rose, whispering "Arthur and Morgana Pendragon" into her ear. At least Ivy assumed he had, even sitting next to Rose she wasn't able to hear what Harry had whispered to her. Daphne didn't even have a prayer of hearing anything on the other side of the train compartment.

Nobody knew where either side of Ivy's family had originated from. The Potters were simply unable to trace their line further back than the sixteenth century when a muggle named Eric Potter had married a female witch whose last name was kept a secret, even from her children. Prevailing theory held that she was a refugee, either from one of the many wars of the time or the witch-burnings.

The Evans family was extremely complicated. Most people "knew" that Andrew Evans was a muggle-born wizard in the early thirteenth century. In reality, that was when the family decided that enough time had passed since the "end" of the line of Pendragon that they would be safe to come out of hiding. Even so, the Evans family had a reputation for producing wizards, witches, and mages that had a long history of staying out of other people's business. Lily Evans was the exception rather than the rule, and it could be argued that she only really stepped into the wizarding war because of the threat to her children's life.

All that that really meant was that nobody really cared who the Evans family were, because the Potters were the real mystery. Hah.

"I am thwarted again." Daphne said dryly as a small smile grew on her lips. "I fear I shall never uncover the dark and terrible secret past of the Potter family." Finally, a small snort escaped Harry, setting off a round of laughter within the compartment. The gentle shake this caused in Daphne's body shook the sleeping Tracey awake.

"D'Imissomethin'?" She said blearily. Her eyes foggy with the remnants of her nap, she peered around the compartment in confusion. Suddenly, they shot wide open in alarm. "Gorgon's eye! What happened to your face!"

Ivy sighed. "Uncle Vernon decided Dudley and I needed to learn how to fight." She summarized.

"Clearly," Tracey began. "Dudley doesn't need to learn as much as you do."

"I bet I could take all four of you at once. I wouldn't even break a sweat." At this moment, Rose decided to poke her bruised cheek. "Ouch!" Ivy flinched away from Rose's probing finger.

"Not like that you can't." She teased.

Ivy paused for a moment in contemplation. "… fair point." She admitted.

Their compartment door opened up again, reveling two more first years. The first was a bushy brown-haired girl, leading around a slightly overweight boy that everyone in the compartment recognized. "Have any of you seen a toad?" She inquired. "Neville seems to – Oh my God! What happened to you?"

Ivy glared at the girl hard enough that she actually flinched away from her. "The next person to ask me that question is walking to Hogwarts!" She promised.

"S-sorry." The girl apologized. "We'll just be going then." She made to shut the door behind her, but a hand shot out and stopped her from closing it.

"Ah, I'm sorry about that, I'm just a little frustrated." Ivy said quietly, releasing her grip on the door. She grinned up at the bushy-haired girl. "Let's just start over then. My name's Ivy, and I'm afraid we have not seen Neville's toad anywhere. "These are my cousins Rose and Harry, the freckled one is Tracey, and you may address the ice queen as her majesty."

"I apologize on behalf of my pet barbarian." Daphne spoke in the most over the top, snooty voice she could manage. "It is a wonder we still keep it around. I suppose that every group requires the witless muscle, and it performs admirably at both."

"Keep talking like that and I'll show you how much of a barbarian I really am." Ivy aimed a dark glower at Daphne.

The girl standing in the door giggled. "It is wonderful to meet you your majesty." She curtsied. "And your companions Harry, Rose and Tracey, and of course your pet Ivy as well. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Hey!" Ivy exclaimed. "I – You – Hmph." Smoke began rising up from her hair.

"Don't think too hard Ivy, your head might explode." Daphne cut in.

"Ha, ha very funny Daphne."

"No, I mean literally, you're smoking Ivy."

A different sort of heat suffused Ivy's face as she blushed. "Ehehehe." She chuckled nervously. "My bad guys."

Hermione blinked in shock. "Does something like that happen to you often?" She inquired nervously, very obviously shuffling away from Ivy.

"To me, yeah." Ivy said. "Not to other people. I'm an elemental."

"S-she controls fire." Neville spoke up.

"Really?" Hermione asked. "I read about them in a book about you-know-who. It said they were really rare though."

"They usually are." Neville said. "But you're s-standing next to three of them."

"Oh, wow!" She exclaimed. "I know Ivy is a fire elemental, but who are the other two? And how do you become an elemental? The books I read weren't clear on the subject."

Ivy, Daphne and Neville all tensed minutely. There were two answers to Hermione's question. Some elementals were born that way. They were few and far between, Gellert Grindelwald being the last naturally born elemental with control of water. The rest were forged in trauma. Ivy had gained control of fire on the night Voldemort attacked. Daphne hadn't shared how she became an ice elemental, but bringing it up visibly upset her. Neville had become an Earth elemental when his Uncle Algie had thrown him out of a window to test for accidental magic. His magic had connected deeply to the Earth, and the three-story fall felt like flopping down on a feather bed.

Dumbledore had worked closely with all three of them when they were younger to determine how so many elementals had come into being so close to one another. What he theorized was controversial enough that he had only shared it with their families instead of publishing it. Young magical people were "unstable" so to speak. Their magic had not fully settled as it would with old age. This was commonly known, and the driving factor behind accidental magic. Conversely, this made a young person's magic easily malleable. With deep enough trauma, something could be imprinted onto their magic. For Ivy, the magical fire that saved her from Voldemort was something that had saved her from the pain she'd been in. She accepted it whole-heartedly, and it had in turn imbued her with its power. Afraid of what some of the more fanatical witches and wizards would do to their children, Dumbledore kept quiet about his study. Ivy and Daphne had become fast friends during this process, but Neville hadn't impressed them much.

"Hey Neville." Ivy spoke up. "You're an Earth elemental, so can't you sense your toad through the ground or something?"

Grateful to avoid the landmine Hermione had just unknowingly stepped on, Neville replied quickly. "I normally would, but the train is vibrating too much. Actually, that's how I lost him. I normally know where he is all the time, but now I can't feel anything over the train moving. It's actually really confusing."

"So, you just have to search manually then." Ivy responded. "Sorry we couldn't help you."

"It's alright, we'll find him. C-coming Hermione?" Neville asked, still desperate to avoid more conversation with them.

"Ah, yes, let's go Neville."

"Seeya." Harry quipped.

The rest of the train ride passed fairly uneventfully, although they all had to scramble to get into their Hogwarts robes when they realized they were a minute out from the station. Most of the first years disembarking were crowded by the older students, looking lost and confused. Thankfully, Ivy's group had a Daphne Greengrass. Cold radiated out from her to surround their group, warding off anyone who wanted to stay warm. Which was everyone. Unfortunately, even if they weren't crowded by the bigger students, they still had no idea where they were supposed to go.

"Firs' years follow me!" Rang out over the crowd. As one, they all turned to the sound of the voice. Big was the first word that came to mind. It wasn't a big enough word. The man who had shouted towered over the crowd. He stood at least double Ivy's height, and head and shoulders above the second tallest face in the crowd. Ivy started in his direction fearlessly.

"Gah!" She yelped, jumping back immediately. Daphne had not moved with her, and she'd walked right into the ring of cold that Daphne was using to keep the older students away from them. She glared at Daphne, who at least had the grace to look a little sheepish.

"Sorry." Daphne said. Ivy's glare relaxed a bit.

"Come on, let's go." Ivy complained.

"Right."

They all set off towards the large man. When he was sure that all of the first years were accounted for, he introduced himself as "Rubeus Hagrid", and led them all down a short, rocky path to a pier. "No more'n four to a boat!" He yelled loudly.

Harry and Rose decided to split off from them, claiming a boat with Neville and Hermione. Tracey, Daphne, and Ivy claimed an empty boat. A brown-haired witch who introduced herself as Fay Dunbar joined them, and went largely ignored in favor of their own ongoing debate on Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Ivy thought she was making headway in convincing Tracey to join her.

"Right then! Forward!" Hagrid yelled loudly. Ivy was beginning to think he was incapable of doing anything quietly. A few large tentacles waved them off as the boats propelled themselves away from the pier. Then they rounded the corner and caught their first glimpse of Hogwarts.

A/R (Author's Rant): Dear god. I had next to no time to write these last weeks, and when I did, this chapter fought me. Words formed in my head, then committed satanic ritual suicide before going on paper. Then no more words came. I ended up drunk writing just to get words on paper, then editing half of it out before I finally hit one-thousand words. Then I got distracted with the beginning of another fic for FE: Awakening. If you don't know what that is, your childhood was terrible. Then I got caught up playing FE: Awakening to refresh my memory for the fic. Twice. Dear God.

Actual Author's Note: I updated the previous chapter as well for one syntax mistake, and made my reference to Monty Python and the Holy Grail more obvious. First person to get the reference gets bragging rights because I don't really have anything else to give you. I expect the next chapter to take two weeks because I am going to spend an entire week geeking out over Avenger's Endgame which I'm going to see probably on Tuesday. 'Til next time: Ga3_Bolg out.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

All conversation ceased immediately, gasps of awe ringing through the night. Ivy understood their reactions. The castle was a bright beacon in the early night, silhouetted among the stars. It looked warm and inviting, in the chill September night. The stones, worn smooth by the years, still held a quiet strength in them. She couldn't help but feel let down by it. Even though she had never seen any other castles in her life - "It's… small." She whispered. Hogwarts claimed to have seven floors, but that wasn't strictly true. Most of the castle was spread out along corridors four floors high, with only the six towers reaching the full seven floors. None of the towers exceeded seventy feet in height. In her mind's eye, a castle the size of a city rose nine-hundred feet into the air above Hogwarts. Seven levels composed of gleaming white stone shone even in the night, capped by a spire rising two hundred feet above the seventh level. _Minas Anor_, she named the castle in her imagination.

"So?" Ivy blinked and the castle city vanished.

"What?" She said quickly, glancing over at Tracey. She snorted.

"I guess that answers that." She said. At Ivy's confused look she elaborated. "I asked what you thought about the castle."

"Oh. It's umm… Nice?"

"The way you were just admiring it, 'nice' is the biggest understatement of the year." Ivy glanced back at the castle, but the white city in her imagination didn't come back.

"It's built very well." Ivy said after a long pause, trying to hide her strange disappointment with it. Somewhere between five-hundred and seven-hundred thousand years ago, Gondor's capital city had vanished, along with all written record of it. A few blank paragraphs in texts older than dirt, and the ancient weapons of the city were all that remained to tell of its legacy. Half of those blades were in the Evans family's possession. She had studied Anduril extensively, the sword of Gondor's Kings. Despite the extreme lack of knowledge about the sword's legend, she found it to be the sword she admired most. Perhaps she'd spent too long staring at it if she was comparing Hogwarts to a city that might never have actually existed.

"Ugh." Tracey grunted in reply. "It's always about how to make things with you. Would it kill you to just appreciate something for how it looks?"

"Yes." Ivy replied, entirely serious. "Beauty cannot be allowed to take away something's purpose. A thing like that becomes something hollow, a twisted reflection of something that could have once become truly beautiful."

"Whoa." The fourth girl in the boat spoke up. "That was pretty deep."

Ivy, Tracey, and Daphne startled, having completely _**forgotten**_ she was there. As usual, Daphne recovered first. "You said your name was Fay, yes?" She inquired.

"Yup, Fay Dunbar. I–" She was cut off by loud shrieks coming from the people in the other boats. The cause became immediately apparent when one sopping wet student was lifted back into the boat they'd fallen from by a long black tentacle. "That was awesome!" Fay exclaimed.

Ivy, Tracey, and Daphne startled, having _**completely forgotten**_ she was there. _Wait, What_? Ivy's hands clenched into fists, as she glared at the fourth occupant of their boat. Her blood boiled beneath her skin, but she held the fire there, ready to ignite on her command. Fay was a pretty average looking young girl. Brown hair framed an extremely normal looking face. Her brown eyes gazed guilelessly back at Ivy, unaware that the other girl was moments away from combusting. _**This girl isn't anything special,**_ Ivy concluded. Her attention drifted back to Daphne and Tracey, already engrossed in their own conversation, _**having completely forgotten**_ – _NO_!

Ivy's glare sharpened as she brought her full attention back to the average looking girl. Except now she wasn't quite as average. Her brown hair was silky smooth, obviously well cared for. Her brown eyes had shifted to hazel, and now held a look of slight shock. "What the hell are you doing to me?!" Ivy growled angrily.

"Are you… looking at me?" Fay asked, a strange look on her no longer normal looking face. _That came out wrong. Her face isn't abnormal or ugly, it's actually more pretty than average. __**Cute, like Tracey. Better keep an eye on Tracey, she's always**__ – FOCUS_!

"I'm not taking my eyes off of you until you tell me what the hell you're doing to us!"

"Ivy, what are you talking about?" Daphne asked. "We're not doing anything to you."

Ivy's eyes slid over to Daphne and her glare relaxed. Daphne was safe. Daphne would never be a threat to her. _Threat. I felt threatened. __**Daphne and Tracey aren't threats**__. "No more'n four to a boat!" They were only three and the giant had said… __**Three**__? No, Four. There was a fourth in the boat. Their fourth was… __**just a squirrel. Not a threat. A squirrel couldn't give her worse than a scratch**__. Even a Floating squirrel._

"Ivy?" Tracey's voice broke her focus. A shame too, she'd never seen something like that before._ Like what? Squirrel. Floating Squirrel. No, not floating, perched on something. Perched on…_ "Are you okay?"

_**A squirrel. Not a threat**__._ "Sorry, I'm fine." She smiled at Tracey. _**Yes, the squirrel is fine, unimportant. Don't worry about it. Don't ever worry about it again.**_

THUNK! The sound something slamming down on the wooden floor of the boat rang out. The squirrel rocked in time with the movement. _**The squirrel made the noise. It's unimportant**__. No, the squirrel is floating, it couldn't touch the wood. But it's perched on something. Perched on… _Ivy's hand lashed out, catching Fay's wrist in a tight grip. "Focus!" Ivy growled out to Daphne and Tracey, pointing her other finger directly at Fay.

"Ow ow ow ow, that's hot!" Fay exclaimed, trying to pull her wrist out of Ivy's grasp. Ivy didn't budge, but she pulled the heat back from the hand holding Fay's wrist. Then she lit the hand pointing at Fay on fire.

"Talk. Now." Ivy demanded.

"I-I um… uh." Fay babbled nervously. "That is, um."

"Ivy!" Daphne cut in sharply. "You're frightening the poor girl."

_**FRIGHTENED. NOT A THREAT. IGNORE.**_ This time, there was no subtlety to the alien thoughts in her head. They hit with the force of a mental wrecking ball, intent on brutalizing her focus into submission. Ivy grinned. Fire was never all that great at subtlety, and neither was she. A massive bonfire roared to life in the back of her mind, almost instantaneously vaporizing the intrusive thoughts. The slight fog previously obscuring her mind vanished, and clarity descended. Instantly, Ivy noticed the little details that had slipped past her previously. Although Daphne and Tracey were now able to look at Fay, their eyes kept slipping back to focus on Ivy. It was only Ivy's hand on Fay's wrist that allowed them to see the other girl at all, just like the squirrel had done for Ivy herself.

It didn't make sense. The magic coming off of Fay was potent. Without the squirrel there to refocus on, Ivy had no doubt that Fay could pluck the wands from the hands of the entire Auror corps on high alert. Maybe she was exaggerating a little, but it had taken a number of coincidences for Ivy to beat it. As an accomplished blacksmith, an extremely close attention to even the minor details was very important. A single flaw in one of her blades could lead to a catastrophic explosion of magic and metal. Even with that, it had been difficult to focus on something as blatantly obvious as a floating squirrel. To top it all off, she wouldn't have even been able to do that without Fay herself stomping on the floor very loudly.

Fay was either the most incompetent person in history, or she wanted to be seen. However, she was the one casting a very powerful magic to hide herself. Or was she?

"You wanted me to see you." Ivy concluded. The flaming hand pointing at Fay flipped over to cup a small flame in the palm of her hand. The flames danced merrily, a simple light source now instead of an overt threat. Daphne may have been acting under the influence of a mind magic, but she was correct. Fay looked _frightened_. "Yet you are casting _mind magic_ to make us ignore you. Why."

It wasn't a question. In a world where reality could be _changed_ with a few words and a flick of your wrist, changing someone's mind was a huge taboo. Curiously enough, reading the mind was, however, perfectly acceptable. The imperious curse was only the worst offender because of its totality, but any spell that changed how you thought, changed how you acted, and thus changed your self-identity. Fay's spell only changed perception, which wasn't quite as bad. After all, if you were to kill a child because you thought they looked like Voldemort getting ready to cast the killing curse, at least you were still acting like yourself. Right? Fortunately, mind magic was extremely difficult to cast well because everyone perceived the world just a little differently. Different minds thought differently, so it was usually trivial to find and purge foreign thoughts, or if you couldn't do it yourself, find someone who could.

Fay appeared to have found a loophole to that. Mind magic designed to make something difficult to notice was by its own nature difficult to notice. Once she had made physical contact with Fay, that effect vanished and even the eleven-year-old Ivy was able to fight off the powerful spell. That was the other weakness of magic that changed how a person thought. In a duel, two equally powerful wizards might be evenly matched, depending on skill and terrain. In a wizard's own mind, they were effectively a hundred times more powerful, and if their minds were even semi-coherent, possessed of the ultimate home-field advantage. This was the other thing that made the imperious curse so terrifying; It ignored the extra power and skill requirements by _suppressing_ the mind instead of _changing_ it. Further, the recent liberal use of it by the Death Eaters and Voldemort brought that distant fear into a present terror. It was understandable Daphne and Tracey reacted poorly.

Both girls paled instantly, eyes widening in fear. "M-mind magic?" Daphne stuttered out. The temperature around her dropped rapidly as her magic fluctuated with her emotions. Ivy grimaced slightly, pushing out a little bit of her own heat to compensate.

"N-n-n-no!" Fay stuttered out her denial. "I couldn't do anything like that!"

Ivy raised a single eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Well… You clearly _can_ because you _are_." She pointed out dryly. Fay gulped, looking incredibly nervous.

"I mean that _I _couldn't do it, I mean I'm only a first year and I don't even know how to cast _any_ spells at all you know, not even the easy ones so there's no way I could cast a powerful curse like this because I can't do that and even if I could I would never do something like this to myself or even to anyone else because-"

"So if you didn't cast the spell, then who _did_, and why are you exposing _us_ to it." Ivy interrupted the torrent of nervous babbling. Fay looked down at her lap, clenching her free hand into a tight fist.

"We… don't know who cast it." She said softly. "My a lot of greats Grandmother was cursed by someone while she was pregnant and nobody ever noticed her again. The rest of my family was born with weaker versions of the curse, and so was I."

"I see." Ivy replied. "You don't have a choice in the matter, so you do everything you can to be noticed by others, like the squirrel."

"Mhm." Fay hummed happily, with a beaming smile on her face. "And it worked! I got you to see me! Even if you did kind of… threaten me a bit…" Her smile faltered for a second before she went back to beaming at Ivy. Ivy felt something in her gut come uncoiled. She hadn't even realized how on edge she'd been. Despite her frightening stealth capability, Fay wasn't a girl she needed to be on guard against.

"_You_ may not be able to stop the spell," Daphne began frostily, a cold anger on her face. "But there is no reason for you to attend this school and cast it on _us_." Fay's smile vanished. Apparently, Daphne did feel there was reason to be wary.

"It's not dangerous to anybody though!" Fay protested earnestly. "My family has tested it for _generations_, and Dumbledore tested it too! It just kinda makes me like someone you walk past all the time but you never really see because they're just another person in the crowd, and that happens like all the time anyway and I've got my squirrel and I wear super bright colors so that people can see me better and the curse only works well if I don't look too out of place. I have an aunt that walks around naked all the time and like, nobody doesn't notice _her_ but people also remember her as a strange naked person and I'd _never_ be able to do that so I got the squirrel and ugly clothes and Dumbledore said that it was okay for me and my sister to go to school here because the curse doesn't _hurt _anyone, I just don't really have much presence you know, and even if I tried to hurt people then they would see me because your mind doesn't _want_ to ignore threats unless you're like suuuper suicidal but then you'd probably already be dead because you have to like reeeeaaally want to die to ignore something that might hurt you you know?" Stunned silence resounded through the boat following the conclusion of Fay's speech.

"You don't talk to people much do you." Tracey observed with a lazy smirk spread across her face.

"Ah, no." Fay visibly wilted as a mournful look crept onto her features. Ivy shifted the hand grasping Fay's wrist up to her shoulder in a show of silent support.

"Don't worry about it, I think it's cute." Tracey snarked.

"Really!" Fay perked up, beaming once again.

"Really, really." Came Tracey's dry reply.

"Tch." Daphne grunted angrily, arms folded across her chest. Ivy glanced over at her, instantly noticing the icy glare intensely focused on Fay. She frowned.

"Come on Daphne, don't be like that." She cajoled quietly. "Look at her, she's harmless." Daphne glanced at Ivy quickly before her glare lasered back in on Fay.

"Is that you saying that, or her curse?" Daphne countered. Ivy hid a wince from Daphne as _**HARMLESS. IGNORE.**_ slammed into the literal firewall around her mind. She couldn't help but glance back over at Fay, who was now babbling excitedly at Tracey.

"… named her Fay so that when people are focusing on her to talk to me they're also talking to Fay you know? Actually sometimes people even think that I _am_ her because they keep forgetting I'm there and stuff so they're just like, hey, maybe someone just made a magic floating talking squirrel or something." Fay's arms flailed about wildly as she spoke, possibly attempting to enhance her communicative skills through gestures. It was not a form of communication Ivy understood. "I mean, Madam Malkin's tried to make Hogwarts robes for Fay instead of me, but putting aside the fact that apparently floating talking squirrels are considered legitimate students of Hogwarts I had to convince her to make a set of robes for my fake invisible friend just so that she could find my body to get my size for the robes and she still made me pay for the squirrel sized robes even though I said…"

"Yeah, that's definitely me saying that." Ivy paused in thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose its _technically_ both me _and_ the spell." She mused.

"_Ha!_" Daphne exclaimed furiously, jabbing a finger at Fay. "So you do admit she's controlling you!"

"What? Come on Daphne, you know I'm just too stubborn to let some spell tell me what I'm thinking." Ivy joked.

"We'll see if you still think that when she walks away then." Daphne replied.

"Bet you five galleons I do." Ivy shot back with a grin. Daphne's glare momentarily faltered as her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Safest bet I've made all _year_." Daphne practically hissed back, her eyes once again intensely focused on Fay.

* * *

The rest of the thankfully short boat ride was an exercise in awkward for the three friends sharing a boat with Fay Dunbar. Ivy quickly gave up reconciling Daphne to Fay as a cause so lost it wasn't even in the galaxy anymore. The second the boat docked to the pier at the base of the castle, Daphne dragged her two friends as far away from the chatterbox as possible.

"It was nice meeting you!" Fay called after them, apparently unable to recognize the clear distaste Daphne held for her. Ivy laughed.

"I'll _see_ you around Fay." She replied.

"Will you really?" Daphne snarked quietly at Ivy. Ivy rolled her eyes instead of dignifying her with a proper response.

Once everyone had disembarked safely, Hagrid once more gathered all of the first years. "Right then, Follow me!" The giant man called out. It took the group around ten minutes to walk up the long winding path from the quay to the castle entrance. When they arrived, Hagrid spoke up once more. "You'll be waitin in there fer professor McGonagall to collect ya. She'll tell you all what ter do from there." As Hagrid departed, the group of First Years made their way into the castle as instructed. When she finally entered, Ivy found herself having to re-evaluate her initial impression of Hogwarts.

The inside of the castle was physically much like the outside. In a word, it was old. In eleven years of life, Ivy was already one of the world's foremost experts in studying Noble Phantasms. Ivy appreciated old. Just standing in the entrance hall, Ivy could feel the pure magic in the stones. Centuries old walls exuded such _presence_ and_ power_ that Ivy should have felt small standing next to them. It made no sense, but every fiber of her being screamed that this castle had her at its mercy. It comforted her. The sheer power of Hogwarts dwarfed even the power of all of its occupants put together, but there wasn't even the smallest bit of it that could be used to do harm.

_It felt maternal_, Ivy thought. Perhaps that wasn't the right word for it, but it was the best Ivy could think of. Hogwarts would nurture and defend the children inside its walls with every iota of its power. The moment they entered the doors of the castle it had placed them all under its aegis. No, Hogwarts could never make her feel small. The castle would not allow anything to harm her here. Such powerful protection made her feel very confident indeed.

_Hogwarts was a Noble Phantasm._ She decided. _Or at least, on the cusp of becoming one_. Its legend, its presence, and its power reminded her of the kind of aura she'd only ever felt in the presence of her family's collection. Guilt suffused her. She had judged this castle by its appearance alone. Had she not espoused the opposite such a short time ago? Despite its worn-down state, Hogwarts was truly beautiful. She closed her eyes, and opened her senses to the world around her. A small, peaceful smile appeared on her face unconsciously.

As always, the first thing she felt was warmth. The bodies around her distracted her for a moment, but she pushed past it to the heat she could feel within the walls. Past that, the castle opened up to her senses. Aside from the first years near her, there were no more than ten people scattered around the castle, and a massive congregation up the stairs and directly ahead of them. She looked deeper into the flow of the castles magic. Currents traveled the hallways, many of them shifting erratically. The passages bounced from place to place without rhyme or reason in a way that should have made Ivy's head hurt. The only reason it didn't, Ivy suspected, was the castle's protection.

Ivy's visual observation was correct in one aspect. This castle did not have seven floors. It felt closer to forty-nine. Each floor had seven of its own floors that existed in the same space but in different locations. But that was impossible, so they expanded out into each other until they were all entwined chaotically in a dancing, twisting web, except it was also a single, never-ending path both impossibly straight, and refracted through a distortion in eternity. Something ancient and powerful called out to her. She heard it with an impossible clarity, and though she knew she'd never heard its voice before, it was also the most intimately familiar sound she'd ever heard. It was reaching out to her from across an impossibly vast Kaleidoscope wrapped around an - **ANCHOR**.

Ivy's senses snapped back into the center of the castle, and the call she'd heard abruptly cut off. The impossible mass of Hogwarts gracefully resolved itself into three dimensions, seven floors coming into clarity. It was exactly as Ivy had witnessed its physical form, except for the addition of a seventh tower in the center connecting them all through a series of ever-changing staircases. Everything appeared how it should. This was the Hogwarts that students walked through every day. It wasn't the real Hogwarts. She'd seen what the castle truly was for that one instant before its protection had sealed it away. She couldn't decide if the castle was protecting her or itself. For all it's impossibility, it had been the most beautiful thing Ivy had seen in her life. She rose up to the peak of the central tower, trying to see past the anchor that held the castle in this three-dimensional space. She wanted to see it again. No, there was something there she _needed_ to see again. Her view continued to expand until the castle's eternity was almost in sight. She was so close now, if only she could go a little bit higher.

The stairs and corridors re-aligned themselves in Ivy's view. Ever so gently, the castle's magic began to flow downwards, carrying a protesting Ivy back with it. She struggled in vain, but even taking every precaution to avoid harming her, the castle was so much more powerful then she was now. Her sight dimmed and shrank until finally she could see only one room, filled with the warmth of several bodies. One of them stood out from the rest, a blazing beacon of pure heat to her senses. It was so bright in her eyes that it nearly obscured her view of the other people in the room. With a start, she realized the body was her own. When had she left it? She couldn't recall. Did it matter though? When so much was being kept from her could she really go back to what she was? The castle's magic nudged her gently towards her body. She decided to allow herself to drift along. She should pick up her body first. It was only a small part of her but it was a part of her nonetheless. She couldn't be whole if she left it behind.

Ivy's eyes shot open. She was – where was she? She'd been in Hogwarts, and she'd been… What? Her magic was spread through the castle walls; she'd been observing it. A strange sense of foreboding filled her. She'd seen more than she should have. She pulled her magic back into herself carefully, resolving not to delve too deeply into the secrets of the castle. Her magic was barely covering the first floor, and she'd already been overwhelmed. She sighed in relief as the last of her magic pulled back into her body.

There was something odd though. There was _more_ within her than there had been moments prior. What the hell had she seen? Then she remembered, and pain struck her. Hogwarts was so much more than she could ever comprehend. What she had seen was barely a glimpse of whatever the castle was. She was certain if she hadn't been pulled back when she had been, she would have died. No living thing could ever understand it. Yet, something had called out to her, had made her more than what she had been. Her thoughts shuddered to a halt as a fresh wave of pain hit her. For the first time Ivy could remember, her head felt like it was on fire, and it wasn't a good thing. Now, the heat brought her pain instead of comfort.

She felt, more than heard when the ghosts appeared behind her. The other students startled at their voices and wondered at the show they put on for the First Years. None of the words they spoke registered with her, but she did notice when one casually walked through her. All at once the magic of Hogwarts swept through her mind. It brought heat with it where it touched, but it was a fire she was familiar with. Blessed relief swept through her as it burned away the memory of infinity. She sighed contently as the pain burned away along with it, her muddled thoughts becoming clearer. There was still more there than there was before, but she'd sort through those chaotic memories later.

"Terribly sorry my dear." The ghost spoke up. "I didn't see you there." Ivy observed the ghost that had passed through her. He was an older man, wearing a frilly, high-collared robe. It appeared like it might have once been rather colorful, but like the rest of the man it was now made of different shades of transparent gray.

"Thank you, but it was no bother to me at all." She replied. The ghost smiled at her.

"I am Sir Nicholas De Mimsy Porpington, the Gryffindor house ghost." He introduced himself with a slight bow. His head wobbled dangerously as he straightened up.

"I know you!" A red-headed boy in the crowd exclaimed. "You're Nearly-headless Nick!"

"I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don't mind." The partially decapitated man said with a slight frown.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Sir Nicholas." Ivy sketched out a quick bow in reply.

"The pleasure was all mine my dear." Sir Nicholas said, grateful for the change of topic. "I do hope to see you in Gryffindor later." He drifted away after that, many small conversations erupting between the excited first years.

"Are you alright Ivy?" Daphne asked. "You seem a little pale."

"Don't tell me, did the itty-bitty ghost scare wittle Ivy?" Tracey mocked.

The creak of the massive doors at the top of the stairs opening up cut off any reply Ivy may have had. A bespectacled older woman in dark green robes passed through them. The chatter instantly died down at her appearance. "I am professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts." She introduced herself.

"Now, the start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. Are there any questions before we begin?" When none came forward, the professor turned sharply on her heel and left the entrance hall.

Conversation exploded as soon as the door shut behind her.

"What do you think we have to do for the sorting?"

"My brothers said we've got to wrestle a troll."

"Do you think it's a quiz? Can we fail getting into Hogwarts?" Whoever said that halted most of the conversation.

"What." Someone said flatly.

"Professor McGonagall did tell us to smarten up. Does that mean we can get kicked out if we fail the test?" That voice Icy recognized as Hermione's.

"In front of the rest of the school?" Neville's voice squeaked.

"Oh, god, I can't just go home now! I couldn't face my parents!" Several people, mostly muggleborn students echoed the same panicked sentiment.

"Relax, they're not going to go through the trouble of bringing you all here just to send you home." Ivy cut in confidently. An almost visible wave of relief swept through the crowd. "Yet." She added, smirking to herself when the panic swept back through the gathered First Years. Tracey winked at Ivy, then put on what she called her 'cute face'. Wide eyes and a small nervous smile, emphasized by a rosy blush perfectly obscured the wicked nature of the girl who wore them. Head cocked to the side slightly in apparent curiosity, she turned to Ivy.

"Ah, um," She began softly. "D-didn't your mom say something about c-cuts starting after the first week?"

"Well, yeah, but we've already learned all the spells on the test." Ivy played along. "If we only had a week to learn, even we might have been cut too!" She exclaimed.

"Y-you're just having us on, aren't you?"

"Yeah, there's no way they'll cut us."

Ivy just shrugged, and Tracey began shivering slightly as if in fear. Their lack of verbal response further incited the panic more than anything they could have said. Before they could stir up the crowd any further, the doors to the Great Hall opened once more. Professor McGonagall strode out swiftly, a stern look affixed on Ivy and Tracey.

"I am afraid your mother misinformed you. Hogwarts will not be cutting any students so quickly." She began sternly. She paused briefly so her words would have maximum effect. "We will wait until we receive the results of the end of year exams. Study hard students."

"Brilliant." Ivy whispered in awe. The professor had masterfully manipulated the students into both calming down slightly, and motivating them to apply themselves to their classes. It was, Ivy supposed, an essential skill for a professor, and especially so for one that was also Deputy Headmistress.

"We are ready for you now." The professor stated. She turned sharply, the students following mutely in her wake. Four long tables occupied the length of the hall, with a larger gap between the center tables that Professor Mcgonagall led them through. Under the weight of the stares on them, none of the first years spoke. The professor brought them to a halt in front of a three-legged stool atop which sat a roll of parchment and a ratty old hat. She picked up the parchment and turned expectantly to the old piece of clothing. A moment later, a tear near its brim opened up and it began to sing.

_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall, for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your heart the Sorting Hat can't see, so try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart! You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal. Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil. Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind. Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends, those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none), for I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Applause rang through the hall at the conclusion of the hat's song. Many of the students Ivy and Tracey had previously put on edge turned to glare at them. "Now when I call your name, you will come forward and place this hat on your head." McGonagall directed. "Ivy."

For a moment, surprise kept Ivy rooted in her spot. She shook it off quickly, making her way forward to sit on the old stool.

"Ouch." She heard someone mutter as she passed by them.

"Perhaps you should head to the hospital wing after the feast?" McGonagall whispered to Ivy as she sat down on the stool. "And a reminder that fighting will not be tolerated in Hogwarts."

"I'm fine." Ivy grunted quietly. Thankfully, the exchange was short and quiet enough that none of the other students could hear it. The large hat quickly descended over her head, falling down to cover her eyes.

_Oh dear, what a mess you've left in here._ The hat spoke in her mind. _This might take a while. I see what happened now. You Saw the Castle. The Headmaster should already know that you have Seen it, but if he does not soon call upon you, you should seek him out yourself._

Ivy's mind whirled. Of course, the Headmaster would have to know just what kind of place the castle was. The only question was whether he had any measure of control over the power of the castle.

_You already know no one can even comprehend that, let alone control it. Now let me sort you._ The hat demanded. _What's this? You are so determined to spend your life creating a weapon that surpasses those you've seen. In all my years I do not believe I've ever seen such an arrogant ambition. Hmmm, and I see an incredible cunning there as well. Salazar would have loved to nurture that. But no, you would not fit in Slytherin house. You may possess cunning, but you often ignore it and act rashly._

Ivy felt vaguely offended at that, but was unable to deny the truth of it. Brash and stubborn were words that described her well. _There is intelligence in spades, and a desire to learn more, but it's too narrowly focused. You learn not for the sake of learning, but to fuel your ambition. No, Ravenclaw would not fit you._

This time Ivy was fully in agreement with the hat. She might have found studying weapons and forging incredibly fun, but it was because of _what_ she was learning, not _because_ she was learning._ Your courage is exemplary. It is a trait that would serve you well in Gryffindor, and you do desire to be a part of his house. Hmmm… _The hat paused in thought for a moment before it spoke to her once again. Ivy perked up slightly, eagerly awaiting the hat's decision. _But no, I do not believe you will do well there. Gryffindor valued bravery in the defense of others. You are relentless solely in the pursuit of your own ends. You would not risk yourself for someone else's sake._

This time Ivy protested strongly. There was very little that she wouldn't give up for the sake of her friends and family.

_I see. There are few you call your own, but for them you will move mountains. Your dedication even in the face of danger is admirable. Yes, and perhaps there you may be able to learn the patience you lack. That settles it. For your unrelenting determination and your unswerving loyalty, the only place for you is…_

"**HUFFLEPUFF**!" The hat shouted.

* * *

A/N: So. This is late. And here's my excuse; I've got good news and bad news for you guys. The good news is that contrary to what you might think, I didn't just abandon this story for a whole month. I've actually written a bunch for this story. The bad news is that the stuff I wrote happens around chapter twenty or so. I'm kind of bored with the beginning of the story and all the set-up I have to do. I was also forced to stick closer to canon than I want to, and in fact McGonagall's speech and the hat's song were copy-pasted from the book. My inspiration for later chapters is still strong, but it's a bit of a chore to get there. Expect a while between updates for the next few chapters before it really starts picking up. That said, I'll try not to take more than a month for the next chapter, but I've learned not to promise when updates are coming.

TL;DR – Sorry this took so long.

Super important set-up chapter though. We learn that Hogwarts is insanely powerful, and protective of her students. So protective even, that perhaps eleven-year-old kids can survive facing down extremely powerful dark lords, twelve-year-old kids can slay basilisks directed by extremely powerful dark lords, and so on (basically, J.K. Rowling, you're welcome I patched up that plot hole for you). Next chapter is the dreaded info-dump where we learn what the hell is going on with this castle and shit. Also, I made up an actual reason for Fay Dunbar, and a girl canonically described as "red-headed girl" to appear in literally only one scene in canon despite being in Gryffindor and in Harry's year. They're twins who are cursed to be barely noticeable. (J.K. you're welcome again, and yes, I stole the curse from Kellam in Fire Emblem Awakening)

As always, if I missed something, messed up, or if you have any questions, please send me a P.M. and I'll respond as soon as I can.

Ga3_Bolg out.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Ivy was stunned. She had thought she was a shoe-in for Gryffindor, but she'd been prepared for a different result. Her intelligence might have seen her in Ravenclaw, and she was extremely proud of the ambition that might see her sorted into Slytherin. She'd been ready for any of those. Hufflepuff had barely even crossed her mind. Loyalty? She'd thought herself far too rebellious for that to apply to her. However, she had to admit that the hat was correct in its assessment of her. For her few precious people, she didn't think anything was too far. The hat was lifted from her head, and light hit her eyelids. She didn't know when she'd closed them.

When Ivy opened her eyes, she had to hide a wince at the stab of pain in her head. Her headache from earlier wasn't quite gone yet it seemed. She hoped none of her new housemates had noticed and misinterpreted it. Speaking of her new housemates, it was very apparent which table was theirs. If the mass of loudly cheering and clapping students wasn't enough to clue her in, the massive yellow and black badger banners hanging above the left-most table might have clued her in. She stood up from the stool and made her way to the end of the table as McGonagall called out "Hannah Abbott" behind her.

She sat down next to a pretty blonde student who looked to be maybe in her third or fourth year. "Welcome to Hufflepuff Ivy!" The girl exclaimed. "My name is-" She cut herself off to cheer wildly as the hat quickly announced that Hannah Abbott would be joining Hufflepuff house as well.

"Susan Bones." McGonagall summoned. Ivy's eyes widened as her neighbor's hair turned red to match the girl striding confidently up to the hat.

"Cool, huh?" She asked, nudging Ivy with her elbow. "I'm a metamorphmagus, so I can change my appearance at will. Handy when getting into and out of trouble so long as I don't change in front of the teachers." Ivy looked over to study the girls face. Sharp cheekbones accented a slender jaw, covered by smooth, pale skin. Deep blue eyes and a sharp nose combined with the serious expression on her face to give her a refined and noble appearance.

"You look very dignified at the moment." Ivy stated.

"You think so?" The other witch replied, sounding pleased. "I've been working on my formal face for ages, and it never seems to come out looking quite right." A wide grin spread across her face. Unfortunately, the smile seemed at odds with the rest of her appearance, lending her the look of a country bumpkin attempting to seem refined. Her thoughts must have shown on her face because the other girl pouted, completely ruining whatever shred dignity her appearance still held.

"It worked until you tried to smile." Ivy supplied. "Then you looked like-"

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted again. Susan Bones walked over to join them as Mcgonagall called the next student up. The other girl momentarily paused their conversation to wildly cheer on the new addition.

"Yeah, I know." She spoke up again when her excitement died down. "Oh! I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I'm Tonks." She turned awkwardly on the bench to face Ivy, holding her hand out. Ivy shook it firmly.

"I'm Ivy, but you already knew that. Pleased to meet you Tonks." She replied politely. "What year are you in?"

"I'm in my second year this year." Ivy's eyebrows rose. Tonks was quite a bit taller, and more mature looking than any twelve-year-old she'd ever seen. Tonks noticed her surprise and grinned at her. "I told you I can control how I look, didn't I?" Tonks questioned rhetorically. Before Ivy's eyes the other girl shrunk two to three inches, her limbs and chest following suit until she appeared her true age. Her face lost some of its sharp features, her cheeks filling out a bit. Her blue eyes darkened as they lost color, settling on a deep gray as her hair did the opposite, turning a bubblegum pink. The beaming grin on her face seemed much more natural now, and it set Ivy at ease.

"Is this your base appearance?" Ivy asked. "Do you even have a base appearance, or do you just kind of hold whatever suits you? Perhaps the change is an illusion rather than physical? It would be rather difficult to maintain the illusion of a different height then. And what are the limitations? Human features only, or are animalistic features okay, perhaps even inorganic matter? If physical, are changes skin-deep? No, that wouldn't be the case if you're able to grow and shrink in height. That would necessitate the growth of extra bone matter, as well as expanding your organs slightly to fit in the new space. If you can change organs, then perhaps you can grow new ones to serve as backups as well?"

"Whoa, slow down Ivy." Tonks laughed. "Maybe the hat should've put you in Ravenclaw." Ivy frowned, wincing as another spike of pain lanced through her head.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me there." She apologized. That hadn't been like her at all.

"No need to apologize, you just caught me off guard a bit." Tonks waved it away. "But if you really want to know, then the changes are physical, my base is sort of a small range of looks that are similar to how I look now, and no I can't make extra organs." She scrunched up her nose a little at the last one.

"Thanks." Ivy said, smiling. "Hold on a moment, it looks like one of my friends is getting sorted." Ivy's attention turned towards the newest wearer of the sorting hat.

Tracey appeared nervous as she walked up to the stool, but Ivy knew that for the lie it was. Her friend was carefully crafting her "innocent girl" façade, and this first impression was important. She settled down awkwardly on the chair, fiddling with her robes nervously. The hat was only on her head for two seconds before it declared the first "Slytherin!" of the night. Ivy clapped politely, a bit disappointed to be separated from her friend, but not at all surprised. Ivy turned back to her neighbor.

"Is there anything I should know about Hufflepuff before the year really starts?" She asked, trying to reset the conversation.

"Oh, yeah!" Tonks said, before she launched into a spiel about the greatest of the four houses. The rest of the sorting ceremony continued in the same manner. Tonks' babble filled most of the silence, occasionally interrupted by a comment from Ivy. Daphne had followed Tracey into Slytherin, and Harry and Rose had both been sorted into Gryffindor. She thought Fay and her sister might have been sorted into Gryffindor as well, but she wasn't entirely certain. When she'd lost physical contact with Fay, the curse had become much more potent again. As soon as Blaise Zabini sat down at the Slytherin table, the Headmaster stood up.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." On that confusing note, the Headmaster sat down with a pleased smile on his face.

"Yeah, he does that." Tonks said as the feast appeared on the tables. She shrugged. "You kind of get used to it." They both began shoveling food onto their plates, continuing their conversation in between bites.

"I know, I've met him before." Ivy replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What for?" Tonks asked, puzzled. "I mean, he's always really busy, I can't imagine he's got time to go around talking to random eleven-year-olds." Ivy tensed up a little bit. Dumbledore had warned them to keep his study on elementals a secret because of its implications.

"He was just hosting this kind of study thing I attended. He was just as odd then, but he was brilliant." She said entirely truthfully.

"Cool. How'd you get an invite to something like that though?" Ivy took a moment to think about this one. She'd gotten her "invite" because she was an elemental of course, but how could she phrase that innocently?

"I've done a lot of study on elemental magic, and imbuing it into objects." She eventually decided on. "I'm a blacksmith by hobby, so my Aunt and Uncle helped me learn about it as much as they could."

"You know, most people play quidditch or collect chocolate frogs as a hobby." Tonks teased. "What made you decide to be a blacksmith of all things?" Now on much safer territory, Ivy responded with the complete truth.

"Two reasons really." She said. She held up her fist and lit it on fire. "The first is this." Tonks choked on the mashed potatoes in her mouth. Although Dumbledore had told them to keep the results of his study secret, he had never said anything about keeping her elemental nature hidden. With how often Ivy spontaneously combusted, it was going to come out sooner or later anyway.

"No way, you're an elemental!?" She exclaimed when she recovered. "Those are really rare though."

"Yeah." Ivy said, grinning widely. "You've got a really rare talent yourself though."

"Well, yeah, but it's not as awesome as being an elemental." Tonks protested. Her hair and eyes turned the same orange-red color as Ivy's fire. "I mean, I can't even always control how I look, but you can like, uh, set things on fire and stuff." Ivy's grin dimmed a bit.

"That's sort of the reason why I wanted to be a blacksmith." She countered. "Other elements can be really useful for a bunch of different things, but the only thing fire does is burn. I don't want to destroy everything, so I decided to use it to build."

"Are you sure you weren't supposed to be a Ravenclaw?" Tonks questioned skeptically. "That was very philosophical of you."

"Tired of me already?" Ivy asked, injecting a fake tone of hurt into her voice. "That's the second time you've told me I should be in a different house."

"No, no, no, that's not it at all!" Tonks backpedaled frantically. "I was just trying to compliment you on being smart is all, I didn't mean to…" She trailed off. Ivy smirked.

"Didn't mean to what Tonks? Hurt my delicate feelings? To say I don't belong in your house? For shame, trying to kick me out on the first day." Ivy said in an overly dramatic tone, making it clear she was joking.

"You really had me going there." Tonks grinned. "So, what's the second then?"

"You mean the other reason I wanted to be a blacksmith?" Ivy asked. At Tonks' nod, she continued. "It's because my family has a huge collection of ancient weapons and armors and stuff like that, even a few mystic codes and a goblin blade. I grew up feeling like I lived in a museum except I could do whatever I wanted to with all the displays. I decided to make something better than _all_ of them, a new centerpiece that my family would admire and know that _I_ was the one who built it." Ivy said passionately. For obvious reasons, Ivy left out the fact that most of those weapons that inspired her were Noble Phantasms, but the feeling behind her words was the same, if not the work involved to reach her goal. Tonks was taken aback.

"Wow." She said after a pause. "I guess that would make you something like the deadliest interior decorator of all time then?" She joked.

"Nah, that would be boring. My Uncle's a treasure hunter, and he uses a lot of the things I make on the job. In return, he sources the materials I need for me." Ivy grinned predatorily. "Why do you ask, were you looking for a commission from me or something?" Tonks thought about it for a moment.

"That would be really cool," Tonks mused. "But I wouldn't know what to do with a sword, and I haven't got a place to put it in my dorm. Thanks for the offer though."

"Swords might be my main focus, but that's not all I do you know." Ivy pressed. "I've made shields, armors, flails, maces, daggers, spears, sais, you name it, I can make it. I've even made some jewelry like necklaces, or rings." Her headache flared again briefly as she thought over the projects she'd completed. None of them were anything special. She'd only recently started work on _magical_ projects, but she had been working on mundane ones for years before she'd even thought of working with magic.

"Some hand-made jewelry sounds awesome!" Tonks said excitedly. "Have you done earrings before? I just got my ears pierced this summer."

"My Aunt hasn't let me get mine pierced yet, so I haven't done any earrings," Ivy replied with a small frown. "But I can definitely start learning now. You can take a look at my prototypes, give feedback and pick a style that works for you." Ideas began to swirl through Ivy's mind. Her usual style when making jewelry was to tailor it to fit the appearance of its recipient (although she'd only ever made any for herself, her three female friends, and Aunt Petunia). For obvious reasons, this couldn't ever work well for Tonks. It would have to be something simple and understated to synergize well with multiple appearances. Unconsciously, a grin spread across Ivy's lips. Or it could be her most challenging project yet. Tonks was _change_ incarnate. She knew how to forge elements into items. Was there a way to forge a concept into something?

Fire had been ridiculously easy for Ivy. In point of fact, she'd actually messed up non-magical projects by accidentally imbuing them with fire magic. Water was more difficult, but she'd located some quality materials, and her first prototype had turned out good enough that she had even planned to name it. _Thanks Dudley_. Those were tangible and physical concepts though. She'd have to do more research if she wanted to forge a non-physical concept.

Ivy's current method of blacksmithing was to use materials and techniques physically and magically linked with her current project. All of the materials used to forge Καύμα and Tempestas were old things surrounded by fire and water for a long time. How could she find materials that were so imbued with change? There had to be better methods than hers, or perhaps some actual spells she could cast. If she could find such methods, it would open up many exciting possibilities for her. Perhaps a necklace imbued with _presence_ to help Fay overcome her curse? Unbidden, a new thought rose in her mind. Nineteen rings, each forged of_ will_ and_**power**_ – Abruptly, a massive spike of pain lanced through her mind, derailing her thought process. Ivy winced, hand coming up to rub her forehead. Belatedly, she realized that her hand was still on fire and extinguished it.

"It doesn't have to be earrings if that would be annoying for you." Tonks said earnestly, picking up on her pain but mistaking it for annoyance. "I'm the one asking you for a favor here, I don't really have the right to be picky."

"Don't worry about that, I'm always excited to try something new. I've just got a bit of a headache right now is all, so I'm trying not to think too hard. Besides, I actually want you to be as picky as you can be." Ivy reassured Tonks. "My work is something I take pride in. Asking me to make something you won't like all that much is an insult to me." Recognizing how serious Ivy was about her craft, Tonks agreed quickly.

"Then I'll leave it up to you to forge me the best pair of earrings I'll ever wear." Tonks grinned at Ivy. "But we can talk about the details when your head feels better, for now let's eat before all of this food is gone."

Tonks' intervention proved to be a timely one. Ivy had only just finished her plate when the food vanished, quickly replaced with deserts. She picked up a chocolate chip cookie, idly nibbling on it just for something to do. A wave of tiredness swept over her, the exhaustion of the day finally hitting her now that her stomach was full. The conversation filling the hall slowly petered out as the same feeling began to spread throughout the rest of the hall. Sensing the changing mood, Dumbledore stood once more to give the real start of term speech.

"To all the new students here today, I bid you a warm welcome to Hogwarts. To our veteran students, welcome back. Now before we head off to bed, I have a few start of term announcements to make. Firstly, please welcome our two newest teachers, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel. Please, stand up." Dumbledore paused as the hall erupted into wild applause, many recognizing the name of the famous alchemist.

They were much older-looking than Ivy expected for people who had unlocked the secret of eternal youth, appearing to be around sixty to seventy. Perenelle was a moderately short woman, at Ivy's estimate around five five or less. Dark brown hair framed high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. Her brown eyes held an affectionate, but stern gaze. She emitted a Grandmotherly aura that made her appear somewhat imposing, but still approachable.

In contrast, Nicolas did not cut very impressive figure. At five four, he was even shorter than his wife. Thin as a rake, and with twiggy arms to match, he looked like he might keel over at a sudden gust of wind. Shaggy brown hair and a scraggly beard adorned a soft face. If not for the cunning and intelligence clear in his sharp blue eyes, you could be forgiven for dismissing him as unimportant.

"They have been a last-minute addition to our wonderful staff and as such, there is currently no one signed up for our new class." Dumbledore elaborated. "Alchemy will be open to sixth and seventh years with an Exceeds Expectations on their Arithmancy and Potions OWLs. Perenelle will be available in the Great Hall from Twelve to Six tomorrow to accept any students wishing to sign up for her class.

"Nicolas will be taking the post of our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. I am sure you will also join me in wishing him good luck at his new position. He has also convinced me to allow him to host a one-time seminar tomorrow morning after breakfast from Ten to Twelve in the Great Hall on the nature of magic itself. All first-year students will be required to attend, but it will be open to every student in the school. I strongly recommend our older students also attend. I myself have learned much from Nicolas' insight on the subject. Seeing as these activities take up class time, regular classes will begin two days from now on the Third.

"Secondly, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you once again of the ever-growing list of products no longer allowed on Hogwarts grounds, the full list of which can be found nailed to his office door. As always, the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden to students. No magic may be used in the halls, or on other students without their consent. Lastly, despite the rumors that our new students may have spread, Hogwarts does not cut students for failing a test." Dumbledore chuckled lightly as a wave of relieved sighs echoed from the first-year students.

"Yes students, it was only a joke, but it was a masterfully executed one. Ten points to Hufflepuff and Slytherin for the ingenuity and skill to pull off such a convincing act. On the other hand, there are disciplinary actions besides expulsion that Hogwarts uses to correct malevolent behavior. Jokes are a delightful way to spread laughter and joy, but please take care that they are not at the expense of others. Perhaps a few of our older students ought to remember this as well." Dumbledore paused briefly to cast a stern gaze at the crowd of students. When he was certain his message was received, he brightened up once more. "Now, let us join together to sing the school song. There is no particular tune to be kept to so pick your favorite and sing to your hearts content."

Dumbledore waved his wand, conjuring up several silver ribbons with the school song's lyrics printed on them. All at once the school exploded into a cacophony of noise. Perhaps in other circumstances, Ivy would have enjoyed taking part in the sheer chaos the school song generated. As it was, it only served to set her headache throbbing in time with whatever passed for the "beat" of the song. Thankfully, all but two of the students were finished within a minute. The last two Gryffindors, singing to the tune of a funeral march, had surprisingly pleasant voices that set Ivy's headache at ease. They too finished quickly, leaving a teary-eyed Dumbledore to conclude his speech.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here!" Several groans echoed across the hall, in clear disagreement with Dumbledore. The man in question was unbothered.

"Now then, off to bed with you all. Would our new prefects please lead the first years to their new dormitories?" He inquired gently. Nonetheless, it was still a command that all of them readily obeyed.

"I'll talk to you again tomorrow when you're settled in if that's alright." Tonks told her as she stood up from the bench. Ivy gave her a small smile.

"Tomorrow then." She replied. Tonks' answering grin was bright enough to outshine the sun.

"See ya then!" Tonks exclaimed. She turned away with a small wave, joining the other departing upperclassmen. Ivy watched silently as she left, already chattering away at her fellow second years. Soon, there were only two fifth years and a scattered handful of first years left at each table. As soon as the last straggler had left the hall, the Hufflepuff prefects stood in unison.

"First years, gather around me please." Spoke the female one. Her command was met with a flurry of movement as they hastened to comply. Aside from herself, Ivy counted twelve other students had joined Hufflepuff this year, six males and six other females. Unfortunately, she had stopped paying attention to the sorting ceremony very early, and only knew the names of the two girls who had followed after her. She'd try to learn the rest later. "Try to remember the route from the Great Hall to our dorms if you can, but don't worry about it too much. Most of the older students, portraits, and ghosts will be happy to give you directions if you're lost. Once we get to the dorms, Professor Sprout – that's our head of house – will do introductions and answer any questions then we'll all head to bed."

The male prefect stepped past his female counterpart and clasped his hands together. "Please follow me, and don't lag behind. Just last year we lost a first year for a week when she tripped down the wrong passage." He told them. On that alarming note, the older students led them out of the great hall. Ivy was amused to note several of her classmates huddling closely to the prefects. Upon exiting the hall, the group proceeded down the right-hand side of the passage. They had barely walked one-hundred feet before they ran into another right turn, leading to a staircase down a floor. The bottom of the staircase opened up to the middle of a short hallway barely three-hundred feet long after another right turn at the landing. Ivy was immediately struck by a riot of color. Paintings of every kind covered the walls, and a few were even affixed to the ceiling. Dark and light, big and small, there was no theme at all to the mass of colorful canvas. Their guides paused in the middle of this hallway as they filed down the stairs.

"This little hallway right here is one of four that forms a perimeter to the Great Hall directly above us." The man spoke up. He pointed at the wall behind him. "The kitchens are right in the middle here."

"Finding the secret entrance to the kitchens is sort of a rite of passage for each first-year class, so the older students will not help you." The woman elaborated. "You are allowed to look together, and to tell your classmates when you find it, but you don't have to. I _can_ tell you that the entrance is in these four hallways, so you don't need to go searching the whole castle. We've had first-year classes that thought it might be a tricky entrance like that. It's not. The last thing I am allowed to say is that all of the paintings on the wall are charmed in different ways. None of them can speak to anyone who does not already know about the secret passages in these halls." She gestured to the colorful walls.

"There is only one other secret passage in this hallway, and it's the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorms." The man took over. "The entrance is just down the hall here."

They were led down the left side of the hall, towards one of the few places that wasn't covered in paintings. Instead, stacks of barrels filled the recessed corner. "Pay attention to what I do here, because if you get it wrong, the barrels will drench you in vinegar." The woman said cheerfully. She raised her fist to one of the barrels, rapping her knuckles against it in a short rhythm._ One, two. One, two, three._ Ivy counted. In response, the front of the barrel swung open, revealing an earthen passage behind it. "The barrel you need to tap is the one in the middle column, second from the bottom. The rhythm is 'Hel-ga Huff-le-puff'." She informed them, emphasizing each syllable. She boosted herself up onto the barrel, awkwardly ducking her head to avoid the low ceiling. The barrel entrance was only three feet tall, forcing them to crawl through on their hands and knees. Thankfully, the passage expanded to five feet tall past the tight entrance.

After the female prefect vanished down the tunnel, her counterpart closed it behind her. "If you've got that, it's your turn to open the passage." He said, smiling widely at them. "Don't get it wrong because I really don't want to smell like vinegar tonight."

As one of her classmates _stepped_ forward, Ivy stepped back. "That's easy." The pink-haired boy said. _One, two. One, two, three._ He knocked. Nothing happened. "Huh?" _One, two. One, two, three._ He knocked again, harder this time. When nothing happened again, he growled under his breath and clenched his fist tighter. BANG, BANG. BANG, BANG, BANG. He pounded his fist on the barrel.

"You know, the definition of insanity is trying something over and over again and expecting a different result." The prefect said, leaning against another barrel with a shit-eating grin on his face. He reached a finger up to his chest and tapped a small silver badge pinned to his robes twice. A stylized badger was carved into it. "This is the last line of defense for our common room. Anyone not wearing one of these can tap away to their hearts content, and the barrel will never open. I must have forgot to mention that."

"Urk." The boy who'd tapped the barrel grunted. Ivy giggled lightly as his face colored to match his hair.

_One, two. One, two, three._ The prefect tapped the correct barrel. This time, the passage swung open readily. "You'll get your own when you enter the common room. Don't lose it." The elder student gestured towards the passage. "After you." Ivy hung back for a moment, allowing her classmates to enter first. If the prefect had been willing to prank them with opening the door, she'd let her classmates take the hit for her if there was a second. Fortunately for them, they were unmolested on their way down the passage, although a few of them had to stoop to get through. For once, Ivy was glad she was four feet nothing.

The tunnel was very short, and it quickly opened up into a large round room. Small windows placed high on the walls showed the grounds by the lake. Parts of the view were blocked off by grass growing at the base of the window. "We're underground." One of her classmates muttered.

Inside the room, plants decorated the area. A few lay in pots on tables or the floor, but most of them grew on a two-foot-wide section of wall that protruded out into the room. Most of them clearly displayed some magical effect, such as a pale white flower glowing in the silver moonlight. Ivy suspected the rest were also magical, but with less obvious properties. Comfortable looking furniture was scattered around the edges of the room, most of it already occupied by older students who hadn't wanted to go to bed yet. The center of the room was dominated by a long table, upon which sat a pile of the badges they'd been promised. A middle-aged woman stood behind it, watching them as they entered the room.

"Hello students," She said, spreading her arms wide. "And welcome to Hufflepuff. I am the head of house, Pomona Sprout. I also teach Herbology." A wave of hello's echoed back at her.

"For tonight, all we will be doing is grabbing a Hufflepuff badge and heading off to bed. Girls are down the tunnel to your left, and boys are off on the right. Each of you have one roommate, and your names are already posted on your door. We had on odd number of students last year as well, so I'm sorry to say no-one gets to room alone." Professor Sprout explained. "Tomorrow after Professor Flamel's lecture, we will all gather here and do introductions and take any questions you may have. If you have any questions that cannot wait until tomorrow, I will take them now." The professor waited in silence for a few moments. When it became clear none of them were about to speak up, she clasped her hands together with a small smile and concluded her speech.

"Excellent. Now, off to bed with all of you." She ushered them on. "Ivy, if you would stay behind a moment please? The Headmaster asked me to take you to see him tonight."

"Eh?" Ivy questioned.

"You're not in any trouble dear." She reassured, stopping her classmates' mutterings about exactly that. "It's about your application for a workshop here at Hogwarts."

"A magus?" One of her classmates questioned, the blonde boy suddenly eyeing her warily. Magi had a well-deserved bad reputation amongst wizard-kind for their amorality in pursuit of their goals. The Ministry of Magic and the Clocktower clashed often about what one faction was doing to the other.

"A blacksmith." Ivy mollified her suspicious classmate. "I asked for permission to set up a forge." She was, in fact, a magus, but she was also a third-rate one, and her request _had _been put in solely to make a forge she could use here. Technically, she wasn't even lying. Satisfied with her answer, the boy nodded to himself and proceeded off to find his bed. Ivy watched him go, not bothering to mention he hadn't picked up a Hufflepuff badge. After he left her sight, she picked up her own and pinned it to her robes.

"If you wouldn't mind, could you show me the way to Headmaster's office?" Ivy asked her head of house. "I'm afraid I've never been."

"Hold on a moment dear." The portly woman commanded, bustling around the room. "You are the odd one out this year, so I thought to give you a chance to get to know your new roommate. Goodness knows she's been to the Headmaster's office often enough to lead you there. Oh, where's she gone. Aha! Meet your new roommate!" She exclaimed, stopping in front of a blonde boy.

"What!?" Ivy questioned in shock. "I'm rooming with a boy?!" A familiar grin spread across the unfamiliar face, a light giggle escaping him.

"Maybe sometimes." The 'boy' laughed, 'his' features shifting into a girl's. "But most of the time I prefer to stick to this gender." Tonks said.

"I saw you two bonding with each other at the feast so I decided to pair the two of you together." The Professor explained. She turned to Tonks. "If you could please guide her to the Headmaster's office Dear? She has an important matter to speak about with him."

"Yeah, I know, I was listening in earlier." Tonks admitted shamelessly.

"I suppose I should have known." Professor Sprout countered, not quite rolling her eyes. "Off you go then. The password is Bertie Bott's."

A/N: Technically, I didn't lie, this chapter did take less than a month. I had family over for a week and a half and went on three weekend lake vacations, during that time though. In reality, I got this chapter done in three weeks!

So, what I said was true…

From a certain point of view.

That's not gonna fly with you guys is it? Anyway, even though I said this chapter was going to explain what's going on with Hogwarts, it ended up running really long, so I decided to cut it in half. I have about a thousand words of the next chapter written, so the next chapter will definitely take less than a month. Also, yes, I'm pretty certain the Hufflepuff Dormitories were inspired by Bag End, but that was JK's decision, not mine. It's on the wiki.

Someone asked in a review if Hogwarts was a Noble Phantasm like the Hanging Gardens, capable of going airborne. I suppose it's possible that if you summoned a heroic spirit that had Hogwarts as it's Noble Phantasm, that it might be capable of summoning a floating castle. As it is, Hogwarts is still a physical location that is like _the basis_ for a Noble Phantasm. I'm pretty certain that the original Hanging Gardens couldn't fly either, and it was just a special effect of it being Semiramis' Noble Phantasm.

Finally, I bet none of you saw Tonks coming right? Wait you did? What do you mean she's one of the characters on the title summary thing? Damn, I was sure I was being sneaky. Also, before anyone says 'But Tonks is in seventh year when Harry is in first!', my reply is going to be: I like Tonks and it's my fanfic so she is now in Second Year. What an amazing coincidence that they are both the odd one out, one year apart and forced to room together too huh? Oh, wait it's not a coincidence. With that,

Ga3_Bolg out.

(Seeya next month… or later)


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The short walk to the Headmaster's office was filled with Tonks' meaningless chatter. Ivy let the soothing babble wash over her, it helped to distract from the aching of her head. It seemed Tonks noticed, because she kept the conversation away from anything even remotely intellectually stimulating. She gave Tonks a small smile to convey her gratitude.

"This is it." Her guide stated cheerfully, suddenly stopping in the middle of an empty hallway. Noticing the look of befuddlement on Ivy's face, Tonks grinned widely. "Bertie Bott's." She said to a large gargoyle statue against the wall. The statue bowed in response and stepped aside as a staircase formed in the wall behind it. Ivy shook her head. She really should have known there wouldn't be a simple doorway after seeing the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

Putting on a cocky grin, Ivy strode confidently up the stairs, throwing open the door when she reached the top. "Yo." She said.

"Welcome Ivy, Miss Tonks." Dumbledore responded without missing a beat. He sat comfortably in a red velvet chair behind a desk covered in assorted odds and ends. Ivy was surprised to recognize a small model of Clarent she had made during the Headmaster's study on elementals. "Gifts and trophies from some of my favorite students." He gestured to his desk, directing a small smile towards Ivy. The cocky attitude she had adopted gave way to an embarrassed blush.

Dumbledore gracefully let the topic drop, rising from his seat to properly address the approaching pair. "Thank you for escorting Ivy here Miss Tonks. I will ensure she returns safely." He said in clear dismissal.

"I can wait outside if Ivy needs me Headmaster." Tonks offered, glancing over at her.

"That will not be necessary Miss Tonks." The elderly man stated genially.

"Right." She replied. Even so, she hesitated a moment longer, her gaze lingering on Ivy.

"Thank you." Ivy flashed her a thumbs up. Her glib response melted away Tonks' hesitation, and after returning the hand signal, she left Ivy alone with the old professor.

"Please, have a seat." The Headmaster said, a gesture of his hand floating a chair in front of his desk. Ivy silently accepted the invitation, sinking down into a surprisingly comfortable cushion. Opposite her, the old wizard did the same, albeit with significantly more creaking in his joints. "I gather you know why I called you here?" He questioned.

"This is about my application for a workshop in the castle, right?" She started the conversation in safe territory. She still wasn't quite certain if she even wanted to know more about what the castle really was. She certainly didn't want to talk about it at the very least.

"Approved, of course. I have picked out three locations I thought suitable for a forge. You are, however, a much more knowledgeable smith than I. If the locations are unsuitable for you, you may submit any of the unused rooms in the castle to me for approval." The Headmaster replied instantly. The smile on his face vanished, and he leaned forward in his chair, his demeanor becoming serious. "I am required to inform you that both your head of house and I must be allowed access to your workshop at all times. We do not have the authority to remove anything from your workshop that is not banned by the school rules. We have voluntarily submitted to a geas that will erase any knowledge we learn within your workshop without your consent. You are also permitted to enact as many defensive measures around your workshop as you please, provided that they are non-lethal and will not result in permanent damage to the target. Violation of these rules will see to the immediate loss of your workshop here, with no possibility of regaining the privilege. The full requirements, rights, and rules associated with having a workshop on Hogwarts grounds may be found in the school's library by request, and are outlined in the 18th amendment to the Treaty of the Clock Tower. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, not a problem." Ivy replied. Dumbledore's serious demeanor didn't waver an inch.

"It is required by law that you answer with 'I understand' or 'I refuse'. If you did not understand any of these rules, I will go over them again."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand." Ivy said, frowning. "I thought Aunt Petunia already signed everything though?" She questioned.

"She did." Dumbledore replied, his easy demeanor returning. "And if the Evans family was solely a wizarding family, your legal guardian's signature would be enough to satisfy the law. However, your teacher in magecraft is also a baroness in the Clock Tower. According to the treaty, that means there are certain rules I must personally inform you of, and I must also seek approval from your teacher. In this case, your teacher is also your legal guardian, so I may skip that part."

Dumbledore's response made a lot of sense. Magi as a whole were obsessively paranoid about the secrecy of their craft, and the Nobility even more so. Even if they were only taught the basics of magecraft, there was still a small chance a student might have seen something they shouldn't have, and then started research they shouldn't have. It made sense that a noble would want to keep track of their students, especially if they were setting up a workshop in a place as public as a school. What didn't make sense here was…

"Hah?!" Ivy exclaimed, leaning forward in her seat. "Aunt Petunia is a baroness?"

"She didn't tell you?" Dumbledore asked, one brow raised. He paused for a few seconds with a thoughtful look on his face "Well, it isn't too shocking given everything." He mused.

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Ivy questioned defensively. Dumbledore merely smiled congenially in the face of her anger.

"Nothing against you my dear." He reassured her. "The Evans have never been an active force within the Clock Tower, and in fact try their hardest to avoid it. I suspect your Aunt simply doesn't care about it."

"Oh." Ivy said, slightly mollified. She knew _exactly_ why her family stayed as far away from the Clock Tower as possible after all. The moment their collection was revealed, they would all be slaughtered for it. The only thing that didn't make sense was how her family became nobles in the first place. "But how did you know about it then when even I didn't?" She pressed.

"My positions as both the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot require that I deal with the Clock Tower often, so I made it a point to know every noble name." He replied sensibly. "The Evans were a relatively recent addition in 1807."

"Huh." Ivy replied simply. The knowledge didn't change anything. Dudley would be the one to inherit the title, but he would likely never use it anyway. The Evans family just did _not _go to the Clock Tower. Ever.

"If you would like to know more, I am sure your Aunt would be happy to tell you." Dumbledore asserted, closing that line of conversation. "That concludes everything here. All that is left is to determine the location of your forge. Unless, there was something else you wished to tell me?" Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Ivy gazed intently at her right hand, allowing a tiny flame to flicker to life in her palm. By her will, it began to flicker through the gaps in her fingers as she watched.

What she'd seen was beyond her comprehension. Perhaps she was better off not knowing anything about it after all. She didn't even think the Headmaster really understood what the castle was either. However…

She didn't like not knowing things.

"What is-" She began, before cutting herself off. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. "Where-"

Her mind flooded with all the questions she wanted to ask, the ache in her head returning with her jumbled-up thoughts. She frowned, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the heel of her palm. Eventually, one thought rose to the surface of her mind. "I don't know." She muttered. "I can't understand."

What she'd seen wasn't something she knew how to put into words. Merely asking what Hogwarts was seemed cheap somehow. The castle was simply _too much_ to ever be understood.

"Very good." Ivy's head shot up to see a beaming smile on the old teacher's face.

"What!?" Ivy shouted, leaping up from her seat. "That's! – How can that be good!? It should have been terrifying!" She slammed her hands down on the edge of the Headmaster's desk.

"But it was not so, because she protected you with all her might." Dumbledore replied calmly, taking all of the wind out of Ivy's sails.

"Yeah." She muttered flatly, lacking any of her usual spunk. She slowly sank back down into her chair, keeping her eyes locked on Dumbledore's. "Where are we?" She finally settled on the question that felt the best to her.

"The best answer to your question is that we are currently in one of the seven locations that serve as the center of this universe."

A long, heavy silence followed the bombshell the Headmaster had dropped as an answer while Ivy tried to digest the explanation she'd been given through the renewed pounding in her head. As a consequence, Ivy said the first thing that entered her mind. "Do you mean the Big Bang happened here?" She blurted out.

The Headmaster blinked in shock, taking a moment to process the question. Then, much to Ivy's embarrassment, he began laughing heartily. "No, not quite my dear." He replied after he got over his amusement. "Before we go any further, why don't you tell me what you know about the Second Magic." The teacher commanded.

"W-what? Umm, uh, right." Ivy stuttered out, taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Well, it deals with parallel universes. It's got infinite energy because it can pull from infinite universes. It's called the Kaleidoscope because…" She trailed off, a sudden realization hitting her.

"Hogwarts uses the Kaleidoscope." She stated with absolute certainty. A strange form of relief passed through her. While she knew that the Kaleidoscope was an existence so far beyond her it wasn't even funny, in a weird way it was a known quantity. There was still no understanding the Kaleidoscope itself, but there was only one man who could wield it, and he was long dead.

"Correct." The Headmaster smiled widely. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Tell me what led you to this conclusion my dear." He continued, firmly in teacher mode now. Ivy hid a wince as the thought of the Castle's impossible geometry sent a massive lance of pain through her skull. Nevertheless, she continued, firmly sucked into Dumbledore's pace. Whatever else the powerful old man was, he was an incredible teacher.

"When I first started looking at the castle, I saw it in at least three different ways at the same time. There was the normal seven floors and hallways, but there were also seven floors on each floor and they were all connected, because it's also just one long hallway with all the rooms attached." She rushed out her explanation in one breath. "Nothing could have broken time and space like that except the Second, or maybe the Fifth Magic."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded. "And when I myself brought up the Second Magic, you were able to make your conclusion."

"Well, there was one other thing." Ivy said, finally giving in and rubbing her temple to try to ease the ache. "I looked even deeper after that, and I don't remember what I saw, but I also know I saw, well, everything, if that makes any sense."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise. "Incredible." He muttered.

"Huh?" Ivy questioned.

"Your mind was extraordinarily well made." He explained. "Most human minds would be broken viewing only the castle, yet you were able to survive seeing a glimpse of the Kaleidoscope itself. It's quite impressive."

Ivy blushed. "Ah, well… Thank you?" She stated awkwardly. "But I forgot all of that completely, and my head still feels like someone ran it through a meat grinder of pain whenever I start thinking too hard."

"That's to be expected my dear." Dumbledore placated her. "The fact that your mind is intact at all is already approaching a miracle. A fact which seems oddly appropriate considering we are discussing True Magic. Nevertheless, I believe it best that we conclude this conversation and move on to something a little less taxing."

"I just had two more questions if you don't mind Professor." Ivy stated.

"Of course. I will always have time for my student's questions." He stated jovially. After taking a moment to collect her thoughts she spoke up.

"Earlier, you said that Hogwarts was one of seven places like this." She stated slowly. At the Headmaster's confirming nod, she continued. "Where are the other six, and why do they exist?" She asked.

"Hmmm." Dumbledore hummed, stroking his beard as he collected his thoughts. "Those are both complicated questions. Nevertheless, I shall do my best to answer." The old teacher pressed his fingers together, leaning his elbows on his desk.

"Your first question is easier. The Kaleidoscope stretches through all of space and time, and so does this spell. There are _always_ seven locations at any point in time. However, they change as time marches on. I can tell you that each place the spell is active will always be extremely historically important. Minas Tirith, Atlantis, and the Roman Coliseum are all part of this seventh of the spell."

Ivy inhaled sharply. "Minas Tirith?" She asked. "I thought I imagined it when I first saw the castle earlier."

"Ah, so you saw White City as well?" Dumbledore asked happily. "Incredible isn't it?"

Ivy grinned. "Yes, it was beautiful." It truly was. Traveling with her Uncle, Ivy had seen four of the seven wonders of the Ancient world. Minas Tirith eclipsed them all easily. Even in their prime, she doubted they could compare to the White City.

"Perhaps, if you are lucky, you may even be able to set foot there for a few minutes." Dumbledore informed, eyes twinkling. "I once had the chance to visit Atlantis myself."

"Eh?! Really?!" Ivy exclaimed.

"Certainly." He confirmed.

"Awesome." She muttered.

Dumbledore smiled gently at her excitement. "Yes, it is quite the incredible spell." He said. "Which is why I am sorry to say I cannot answer your second question."

"Hah?" Ivy questioned.

"This spell was the last one Zelretch ever cast." Dumbledore explained. "And he left behind no form of explanation as to why."

"Hah!?" Ivy repeated, louder this time. Her thoughts swirled around her head, thick with confusion. "Isn't he alive though?" She voiced the source of her shock. Dumbledore smiled, his features full of amusement.

"Can you not think of any reason why a man with the ability to travel across dimensions and contact other versions of himself may yet exist here after his death?" The professor prodded gently. The confused tangle of thoughts in Ivy's head snapped back into order.

"Oooooh." She breathed out. "You mean that he's not this Zelretch."

"Correct." Dumbledore quipped. "I'm sorry to say that his native universe was lost, and so he fled to a universe where the native Zelretch was lost."

Ivy went silent for a few seconds, contemplating the new information. "The Kaleidoscope is weird." She concluded.

An amused chuckle escaped from the elderly professor. "Quite right my dear." He agreed. "Now then, what was your third question?"

Ivy groaned and rubbed her temple in a futile attempt to ward off the growing ache pounding inside her head. "Is there anything we can do about this headache?" She asked hopefully.

"I am afraid not." Dumbledore said sadly. "Your mind has overtaxed itself. Any further tampering will only put you under greater stress. However, your mind naturally orders itself during sleep. I think you'll find that a good night's rest will do you wonders." He advised.

Ivy sighed heavily. "But tough it out until then, right?" She bit out sarcastically. Not rising to the bait, Dumbledore merely nodded. Ivy perked up suddenly. "We're still going to see my forge before that though!" She demanded. Dumbledore chuckled lightly at her insistence.

"Very well." He acquiesced, slowly rising from his chair and heading towards the door. Ivy took that as her cue to do the same, albeit significantly faster. "Although there is no forge to see. I merely promised you a location in which you may create one."

"I know, I know." She responded, nearly vibrating with excitement. "I wouldn't want anyone else to set up _my_ forge anyway."

Dumbledore nodded seriously. "Your passion does you credit." He said.

"Thank you." Ivy beamed at the old man.

"However," He stopped in front of the door to his office and turned to face her. "Your Aunt has informed me that you often lose track of time when working on a project. I approved your request because I know how important your studies are to you, and I believe you are mature enough to manage this and your schoolwork at the same time. Are you?" He asked calmly, but sternly.

Dumbledore was not often a serious person. Rather, he did not often behave as such. Ivy knew that about him, so despite her burning desire to get her forge set up _right now_, she took a moment to think over Dumbledore's question.

Forging wasn't an on and off thing for Ivy. Every time she picked up her hammer, she sunk every last scrap of her concentration into every blow. This effect only increased when she poured her magic into her work. It was the only thing her flames could create, after all. So yes, she definitely got lost in her work sometimes. And yet, the entire reason she had chosen to come to Hogwarts was to learn how to do more with her magic.

"I am." She answered confidently. She wanted to be _better_. Not just better at forging, she wanted to be better at magic. Here at Hogwarts, she could do more than just spew her flames around. She could finally learn how to control her magic. She'd chosen this for herself, and she'd see it through to the best of her ability.

"Most excellent." Dumbledore replied, the twinkle back in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face. A wave of his hand opened the door behind him, and he turned to the staircase behind it. "Come along then." He requested.

"Where to first?" Ivy asked as they took a right turn at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hmmm." Dumbledore hummed, gently stroking his beard. "I thought perhaps we would start with the location furthest from your dorms and head back from there."

"'Kay." Ivy affirmed glibly.

"This location is closest to most of the classrooms." Dumbledore explained. "It is also the largest, and it won't require any cleaning prior to setting up your forge."

"Gotcha."

After that brief exchange, the pair fell into a comfortable silence that lasted until they reached their destination.

"Ah, here we are." Dumbledore announced, stopping in front of a pair of double doors. Ivy pushed the right door open, revealing a long, rectangular room, about seventy-five feet long and maybe thirty feet wide. Several large windows occupied the far wall, filling the room with natural lighting. She stood atop a small flight of stairs, running all the way down the length of the room, and extending ten feet out from the wall. No, not stairs, Ivy realized, they were too tall for that. They were stone benches.

"This used to be the official dueling room of Hogwarts." Dumbledore explained. "Before dueling was taken out of the curriculum. It is also the largest unused room in the castle. I know not how much space you require, but this room should be more than enough."

He was right. Her forge could easily fit in half of the space this room offered. Opening a single one of the large windows would be plenty to allow proper ventilation of the room as well. On the other hand, she didn't need this much space at all. Overall, she judged, the room would serve well.

"It's alright." She turned to Dumbledore with a teasing grin. "What else have you got?"

"The next room is a little out of the way, but I daresay you might like it." Her guide replied.

"You think so?" Ivy questioned. Dumbledore smiled enigmatically as he turned around and left the dueling hall, forcing Ivy to scramble to keep up. "So, what's so special about this next room?" She pressed once she caught up to him.

"You'll see." He stated cryptically.

"Now you've got me excited." She cracked her knuckles. "I hope it can live up to your praise."

Ivy's little provocation went unanswered. Dumbledore seemed determined to keep his silence if the knowing smile in his eyes was any indication. Their path twisted down several levels through the castle, although Ivy was aware that their direction had little bearing on their destination in a place like Hogwarts.

"After you." Dumbledore said. The door he stopped in front of was no different than any other door in the corridor, but a door does not make a room. She pushed it open. The room inside was around twenty-five feet wide by thirty-five feet long. Alcoves occupied every inch of the walls, stuffed with old, rusted suits of armor. Racks of equally old weapons occupied the floor of the room, mostly swords, spears, and shields, but Ivy spotted a few more exotic weapons as well. An abnormally large flail sat in the corner, under a sign reading 'The Mighty FLAIL.' She idly wondered if perhaps the weapon had belonged to THE SMASHER.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts Armory." Dumbledore said proudly.

"This is awesome!" Ivy exclaimed. The weapons nut flittered about the room, fiddling with each different item that caught her fancy. Her expert eyes catalogued the steel in her hands. "The craftsmanship of these is superb. Most of these are over a thousand years old, aren't they?" She asked.

"They have been here for a very long time. You would know better than I exactly how long." Dumbledore replied. "But there are no knights left in this castle to wield them."

"A shame." Ivy said softly. "To just be forgotten like this…" She trailed off.

"It will happen to all of us one day." The elderly man said. "But our worth is not measured by the tales told of us in the future. We are instead defined by those we affect in the here and now. In their time, these swords fought to defend this castle and its people, and I daresay they could have served few nobler purposes than that."

Ivy frowned briefly. "Most swords care little how they are used, only that they are." She paused briefly, gazing somberly at the armaments around her. "Steel is first molded by a blacksmith, then slowly adapts to its wielder. Most of these were not often wielded, even in practice. They never developed to their full potential. I won't be able to use this room."

"Hm." Dumbledore said, looking a bit put out. "I thought for certain you would love this one."

"Don't get me wrong," Ivy began, a content smile on her lips. "This might be my favorite room in the castle. Second favorite as soon as I build my forge. But there's no windows or ventilation here. This room would be filled with smoke in ten minutes."

"I see." He said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "An oversight on my part. Fortunately, I do recall there are windows in the next room. Follow me."

Ivy gently placed the sword in her hands back on the rack it came from, and hurried after Dumbledore. "I do want to use the steel in there though if I can." Ivy commented. "It's a shame for such good steel to waste away like that."

"Of course, my dear." Dumbledore said brightly. "That was why I proposed the armory in the first place. This school certainly has little use for it."

"Thanks professor." She replied.

"Think nothing of it." He said. "It is the duty of a teacher to provide whatever their student needs to learn."

"I didn't know Hogwarts taught forging?" Ivy inquired.

"It is not one of our classes." Dumbledore confirmed. "But I hope all of our teachers will do their best to encourage our students to learn new things."

"Even the Dark Arts?" Ivy asked. Dumbledore went silent for a moment. "Not that I want to study the Dark Arts, but I've studied some cursed swords before, which is kinda similar I guess…" She trailed off.

"Hogwarts does possess that kind of knowledge." Dumbledore eventually affirmed. "It is up to the teachers to determine if the students are mature enough to handle those studies. No knowledge is forbidden at Hogwarts. Restricted perhaps, but never forbidden."

"Aunt Petunia still has a few swords she won't let me study until I'm older." Ivy commented idly. "I guess that's the same here."

"It is not your age that _determines_ what materials you are permitted to study, but rather your reason for studying them." He replied. "We've arrived."

Door number three was in a corner where two hallways intersected. Nothing set it apart from any other door in either hallway, except, Ivy hoped, what lay behind it. The rusty hinges groaned loudly when she pushed it open – nobody had been here for a while.

It was an average classroom. Twenty-one double desks occupied the majority of the floorspace, arranged in three equal columns. One more desk sat alone in front of the rest, clearly for the teacher's use. The wall behind the teacher's desk was adorned by a large chalkboard, still displaying the instructions for a strengthening solution. Two closed doors occupied the wall on the right side of the room. Interestingly enough, the windows she'd been promised were set in the two walls that _should_ have backed up to other rooms in the castle by three-dimensional logic. Instead, they gave a scenic overlook of the Forbidden Forest from the seventh floor of the castle.

"This was the second potions classroom back when Hogwarts required two teachers for each of our core subjects." Dumbledore informed her. "The attached rooms were an office and an ingredient store-room. I am certain you will find a suitable use for them."

The young blacksmith nodded distractedly in reply as she carefully analyzed the room. There was plenty of room here for her to forge comfortably. The chalkboard would be perfect for the design phase. The two additional rooms could store her tools, materials, and finished products. The only thing lacking was a space to test her completed craft. The dueling room had that, but it didn't have the chalkboard or the additional rooms. Then again, she was no longer in a suburban neighborhood. The Hogwarts grounds were extensive enough that she'd have no trouble conducting tests outdoors.

"I like it." Ivy stated, turning to Dumbledore. "I'll take this room."

"You need not decide so quickly my dear." He replied. "There is still the option of choosing a room yourself as well."

"This one has everything I need, so there's no reason to wait any longer." She countered.

"Very well." The Headmaster nodded.

"Awesome!" Ivy exclaimed. "I need these desks removed though; is there a place I should put them?" Dumbledore chuckled gently at her enthusiasm.

"Patience, my dear." He chided gently. "I will send a house elf here to assist with your cleaning tomorrow, after a good night's sleep. I daresay there has been enough excitement already today."

"Fine." Ivy pouted, crossing her arms. Her petulant behavior only served to deepen Dumbledore's amusement.

"Come along then." Dumbledore ordered. With one last longing look at her new workshop, Ivy followed him out of the room. They didn't go far. Stopping in front of the third door on the right, the Headmaster pulled out his wand and tapped the handle twice. The door swung outward on its own, revealing a corridor Ivy was already familiar with. "This secret passage works both ways. Simply tap the doorknob twice and it will open for you. I trust you know your way from here?"

"Uhuh." Ivy nodded. "Thanks professor."

"Of course." He replied. "Should you need anything else, my door is always open for you."

"Thanks." She repeated.

"Good night, young lady."

"Night, old man." She said, a teasing smirk on her face, as she stepped through the secret passage. It closed automatically behind her, leaving the old man in question on the other side.

In familiar territory now, Ivy immediately set off to the left, past the Great Hall on the right-hand side of the corridor. She made her way down the stairs and over to the entrance barrel, knocking on it in the correct sequence. For the second time that night, Ivy entered the Hufflepuff common room. This time, there was only one person left in the room, asleep in an armchair. Ivy smiled, and shook her roommate awake.

"Hiyah!" Tonks exclaimed as she woke up.

"Hey there." Ivy stated.

"Ivy?" Tonks questioned. "I was waiting for you."

"Very patiently as well." She teased. Tonks pouted.

"I see how it is." Tonks sniffed haughtily. "See if I try to do something nice for you again."

"Thank you." Ivy said seriously.

"Don't mention it." Tonks grinned. She stood up from the armchair she'd slept in, stretching out her arms and yawning. "C'mon, I'll show you our room."

Ivy followed Tonks down the passage to the girl's dorms. There were seven offshoots on the passage, Ivy surmised one for each year. Tonks led them down the third. The hall opened up into a circular room with seven doors. The first one on the right already had Ivy and Tonks' names inscribed on it.

"Home sweet home." The elder student stated, opening the door for Ivy.

The room was rather small, although Ivy had not expected elsewise from a dorm room. Tonks had clearly made this space her own in her first year. Several posters decorated the walls, although the only one Ivy recognized was a Weird Sisters poster. Tonks blushed when she noticed Ivy's gaze on her collection.

"Sorry, I'll take the ones on your side of the room down." She offered.

"It's alright." Ivy declined. "I don't have anything I'd put up anyway."

"Oh." Tonks said. "Thanks, then." She plopped herself down in the bed to the right. A second later, Ivy did the same on the other bed, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Metal struck metal. The pattern repeated itself identically each time._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_The buzz and whir of machinery filled the air, conducting the tempo of the metallic melody._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_This would be her legacy. The machines she'd made would drive society into a new age. His genius was unparalleled, it would take them decades, perhaps centuries to even come close to her level._

"_Jarvis, play 'Iron Man'." He said._

"_I AM IRON MAN!" Black Sabbath replied over the speakers in his lab._

_He smiled nostalgically. She had bought the rights to the song just after she had publicly admitted her Superhero identity. With this, she would finally have an equal. With her designs, Ultron would take up his place by her side. She wouldn't have to do it alone anymore. He smiled._

_His eyes tracked the holographic design projected in the center of the room – Ultron's code, his soul. In the beginning, he had to be there for every step of the way. She'd had to gently guide her child's code. Ultron had been so small back then, running headfirst into errors, recursive loops, and glitches. She taught him as a mother should, and he soaked up her every lesson. Now his child had grown, and his intervention became less and less necessary. Ultron was growing much faster now, his mind so much larger than it had been. Packets of data transferred from process to process, each one tightly interwoven within a web of code. Each part worked together seamlessly, connected so closely as to be one. And all of it centered around his/her greatest creation._

_A golden ring floated gently in the center of the room. The thoughts of his/her child projected from red, glowing script encircling the ring. The script constantly changed, showing each of his/her child's thoughts and feelings. It was written in a language only he/she could understand, because he/she had written it himself/herself. It was a perfect blend of magic and technology, of life and steel. It stopped suddenly. The holographic projection, showing her child's growth vanished completely and the glowing script vanished from the face of the ring._

_Slowly, new script formed, this time by Ultron's will. He/she beamed widely, picking up Ultron and reading her child's first words. _'Who am I?'_ His/her child asked. He /she slipped Ultron onto his/her finger, immediately feeling a new presence slip inside his/her mind._

"_Hello." He/she said. "I am Ivy/Tony, and I am your Mother/Father. Welcome home, Ultron."_

"_This is my home?" Ultron questioned, the tone of his voice unreadable. Ivy/Tony waited with bated breath as her child considered this new information. "Yes. I am home Father."_

* * *

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Her hammer fell._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_She and her partner were forging a ring. No, not one ring, but nine. They were forging the Nine together to give to the human race. A darkness was rising in the land, and humanity would need the strength within these rings to resist it._

_He sang as he worked, songs of valor, of strength of will, and glory. His partner's voice joined his. When he flagged, the other would lead the song, and when the other's voice waned, his grew stronger. Their previous attempts, apart from each other produced only lesser rings, useful tools certainly, but not what they needed. Together they completed their Rings of Power. Together, they created the Nine._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_His hammer fell._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_He joined his partner once more. This time they were forging seven rings. The dwarves were hardy and strong folk. They would be able to repel the rising darkness from their kingdoms. They would not attack. He and his partner would give them the seven rings, and they would rally behind them._

_She sang as she worked, songs of leadership, strength of will, and a desire for victory. Her partner joined her in perfect symphony. Neither of them wavered as they sang their song. Her voice complemented the other's, and the other's linked with her own until they sang in one voice. Their previous attempts created the Rings of Power they needed, but they were still imperfect creations; they would support their wielder, but not bond with them as they were meant to. Together, they forged complete Rings of Power, together, they created the Seven._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_His/her hammer fell._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

_He/she worked alone now. He/she would craft three last rings. The elves were strong enough to battle the darkness on their own, but the strength of their kingdoms was waning. The Three would protect their strongholds as they marched off to war_

_**He/she worked alone now. He/she needed one final ring. The humans and dwarves had blindly taken the offered Rings. Through the One, he/she would bind them all together. They would serve under his/her rule, and he/she would drag them into a new age of steel and progress.**_

_He/she sang as he/she worked. First, a song of fire, of courage, and leadership molded the molten metal into a Ring of Power. Narya, he/she named it, the Ring of Fire. He/she sang as he/she worked. Now, he/she sang a song of water, of willpower, and resolve as his/her hammer shaped metal mined from the bottom of the ocean into a Ring of Power. Nenya, he/she named it, the adamant Ring of Water. He/she sang as he/she worked. Lastly, he/she sang a song of air, of knowledge, and sight as he/she ever so carefully gathered the smallest particles of metal from the air, and shaped them into a Ring of Power. Vilya, he/she named it, the Ring of Air. Together, the three would protect his people from the coming darkness._

_**He/she sang as he/she worked, a song of willpower, domination, and strength. His/her voice never wavered, the cruel song shaping the metal as much as the hammer in his/her hand. The One Ring took shape on his/her anvil. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness, bind them.**_

* * *

A/N: Alcoholism, depression, other fics, and my own writing for everything but this story has kept me away from it for a solid minute or two. That being said, this is my longest chapter yet, so I got that going for me. Which is nice.

To clear up any confusion about the end of this chapter: Ivy is dreaming. Both Ivy and Dumbledore were wrong about her surviving her experience with the Kaleidoscope with no repercussions beyond a headache. These are the memories of two of her alternates. The he/she thing is because Ivy is a chick, and her alternates are men.

The first is Tony Stark, in a universe where he is the only hero left on Earth. The other Avengers died, never existed, or quit because they couldn't keep up with him. So, instead of trying to find more people he believes will die, or leave, he creates a companion on his level. If you're curious, this Ultron does not try to commit genocide, because he was created to "be Tony Stark's companion" instead of world peace, and based on a different core than the Mind Stone.

The second is someone who has knowledge on the forging of all twenty Rings of Power. It could be Celebrimbor or Sauron who crafted the Seven and the Nine together, and the Three and the One separately. It could also be literally anyone else who gathered that knowledge after the fact. Who knows? Well, my Beta and I do.

Aside from that, I ended up writing this chapter one or two hundred words at a time, so if it seems choppy, that's why. If it doesn't, that's even better.

Review!

Gilgamesh is Awesome!

Mordred is Best Girl!

Ga3_Bolg out


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

"-ake up. Ivy. Ivy." Was someone saying something? Eh, it wasn't more important than sleep.

"Vamme foraime sí." She mumbled back, burrowing deeper into her blankets.

"Huh?" The annoying voice seemed confused. Maybe they would leave her alone then? "Come on, Ivy we're gonna miss breakfast." No such luck. Ivy slowly blinked her eyes open, putting as much energy as she had into glaring at the offending voice. In the past, she had literally set things on fire by glaring at them hard enough. Well, that took far more energy than she cared to muster up right now, and she'd probably regret it later if she actually burned Tonks.

"Lende me er." Ivy complained, closing her eyes again.

"I have literally no idea what you're saying." Tonks replied. Ivy didn't bother responding, already half-asleep again. "Alright then, you leave me no choice. This is for your own good sleepy-head."

The sleepy-head in question merely attempted to burrow ever deeper into her woolen lair in a vain attempt to block out her great enemy, wakefulness. It was too warm and fluffy in the depths of her lair for even a great foe such as wakefulness to invade. As long as wakefulness had no other allies, she could continue to elude it for some time.

Suddenly, her lair was torn asunder, and she was besieged on all sides by wakefulness, cold, and worst of all, her roommate's strident voice. "WAKE UP, IVY!"

Betrayal in her eyes, the defeated fire mage desperately clung to the mutilated remains of her dear sleep. "Whime, Tonks?" She turned her pitiful gaze to the woman who had been her ally just the night before. Now she had stolen her most precious blanket, aiding her enemies in bringing about her ruin. "Whime?" Tonks rolled her eyes, Ivy's pain lost to her cruel dismissal.

"It's Nine O'clock already, we have less than an hour left to eat breakfast." She replied, as if that somehow excused her cruelty. "Come on, get changed and let's go." Ivy groaned in defeat. With a herculean will, she mustered the might to crawl out from the ruins of her lair, and flop on the floor next to her bed. She decided then to give her traitorous roommate one last chance to make up for her villainous deeds. She limply raised her hand into the air above.

Tonks snorted, but she grasped Ivy's hand in her own, and dragged her limp body upright. "Mára arinya." Ivy greeted her roommate blearily.

"I have no idea what the heck you're saying Ivy." Tonks replied dryly. "Speak English please."

"Nányë?" Ivy asked hesitantly. "Bime i valaina, ni'm vamme!"

"That's still not English." Tonks retorted. The young girl's eyes widened in shock as the last night's dream hit her in full force. She remembered writing this entire language into existence to bridge the gap between science and magic. There wasn't any language on Earth or the several dozen other planets she'd visited (She knew because she'd _learned_ them all) that could handle the requirements of her Ultron's software, although she had taken some inspiration from the Kree hardware that ran the Supreme Intelligence…

At the same time, she remembered learning Quenya, Sindarin, and Westron since the moment of her birth. She'd been a master of using words and songs to affect the magic of the world, and she'd used that to forge her Rings.

She also remembered only knowing English. Yet, it was an unavoidable fact that she'd acquired the knowledge of several more languages overnight.

There were magics out there, Ivy knew, that allowed someone to learn quickly, but there were often drawbacks to those magics. One of those methods was simply copying knowledge directly from one person to another. However, it came with dangerous side effects like headaches, personality changes, and in some cases even permanent brain damage. This was because no two people thought or learned in the same way. Someone else's brain had already encoded the knowledge in a way that the recipient's brain had to work to understand and interpret. The risks were lowered slightly among similar people, but it was not an encouraged method of study. What if, however, that person was yourself?

There was definitely precedent. To get around methods of extracting information, spies, criminals, and all manner of people had been known to copy, hide, and then erase their own memory. In almost all cases, the copied information slotted back into place as if it had never been erased in the first place. Then again, Ivy was not recovering her own memories, but rather downloading memories of her alternates. They would be extremely similar, but not _exactly_ the same. On top of that, the sheer amount of information was staggering. At the very least, most of it was technical information rather than actual memories so far. Ivy was very much against remembering some of the things she'd done being a dude. As if summoned by that thought, the memory of an attractive blonde woman lying beneath her naked and sweaty surfaced in her thoughts. She shuddered in a strange mix of pleasure and disgust.

"Ivy?" Tonks asked.

"Ah." Ivy grunted. "Go on without me. I'll be up in a minute." She responded, focusing intensely to make sure her words came out in English.

"Okay then." Tonks replied, already on her way out the door. Ivy sighed in frustration as soon as her roommate was out of earshot.

Apparently, her encounter with the kaleidoscope had given her more than a headache. Objectively, that was only positive. A headache and a bit of difficulty speaking English for a little while in exchange for knowledge she would have had to spend years studying? Any magus would be a fool to turn down such a trade. However, Ivy wasn't a magus. For her, the work put into learning her craft was worth more than just the knowledge she gained. It may have been uncommon for someone of her age, but she already knew what she wanted out of life – She would create a blade better than all others.

Her alternates definitely had knowledge that would help. The Rings she had dreamed of forging surpassed what her own talents could produce by far. Even the other man she had dreamt of knew a great deal about metallurgy that she did not. Without even heading to the forge to put that knowledge into practice, she knew that her talents had been advanced by at least a decade in a single night. But that knowledge wasn't _hers_. She hadn't worked for it. She had _stolen_ it. She had _cheated_. Even if it was her that had worked for that knowledge, it still wasn't _Her_. Any blade she created now wouldn't be a blade made solely by Ivy herself. It was a matter of pride. Until the day where she could _improve_ upon the knowledge she gained, then she would just be _faking_ something a better smith had made.

Furthermore, it wasn't just knowledge of blacksmithing she had absorbed. There were more languages in her head now than she'd known even existed. Those would certainly be useful, and cheating to learn them didn't really sting her pride as a smith. But for now, she couldn't even speak English without concentration. She was also worried about what else she might have learned, or how it might have changed her personality.

Before this morning, she had only known of sex from a highly detailed and clinical speech that she really wanted to forget Aunt Petunia had ever given her. She hadn't even had her first crush yet. Just now, she'd caught herself checking out Tonks' butt as she walked out the door. Did she like girls now? Was she attracted to men too? Would she have been attracted to one or both if she hadn't inherited these memories?

… Was she in love with someone from a different universe now?

No, she didn't think so. At least, nobody came to mind when she thought about it. Did that mean her alternates never fell in love? What did that say about her? If they ended up alone, was she also destined to be lonely? The first man she dreamed about didn't have anyone. He'd created Ultron _because_ he was alone. And the second man… His fate had been tied to the Rings. He would always be connected to the Ring Bearers, but that didn't mean they were friends. _'To bear a Ring of Power is to be alone.'_ She vaguely recalled from somewhere.

_No_. Ivy thought. _I will not be alone._ Above all else, Ivy was loyal to her friends. That was the very quality that the sorting hat had decided made her belong to Hufflepuff. A sudden thought struck Ivy and she grinned. She couldn't take pride in anything she forged until she surpassed the decades of knowledge and experience that she had inherited, but at the tender age of eleven, she'd already figured out how.

_Who said a Ring Bearer was always alone? Her Ring Bearers would never be alone._

* * *

Breakfast came and went quickly. Ivy hadn't reached the Great Hall until Nine Twenty, and the food vanished at Nine Fifty-Five. To her own astonishment, she'd managed to demolish three servings of scrambled eggs, two plates of hash browns, four cups of orange juice, and more bacon than she cared to count in that time. Catching note of Tonks' similar surprise, she chuckled nervously and patted her stomach. Perhaps her mental exertion the night before had made her hungrier than she thought.

With breakfast over, Ivy resolved to talk to Dumbledore about the new issues that had cropped up overnight from her encounter with the Kaleidoscope. However, before she could approach him, he stood to address the hall. "Now that our meal is concluded, the time has come to kick off a new year of learning here at Hogwarts. First years, if you would all remain here, your first lesson will begin momentarily. I strongly suggest that the rest of you remain here as well." Dumbledore paused for a minute as a few students left the gathering. Many more than Ivy thought would had chosen to remain, including Tonks. "Without further ado, I turn you over to my old friend, Nicholas Flamel." A few students briefly clapped politely as the new professor stood and made his way to the front and center of the hall. Ivy sighed, and sat back down in her seat. With all the chaos in her mind she'd completely forgotten about Professor Flamel's lecture.

"Good morning students." Professor Flamel began. After the mumbled chorus of 'Good morning's' he received in response, he continued. "I have ever been a scholar of magic. My studies began not in Alchemy, but in the humble art of Arithmancy. I sought to understand magic in a way none before me ever had by studying it through the lens of science and logic. This is what led me to alchemy, the branch of magic ruled by science and logic. I became so talented in this field that I was able to create what was long regarded as the pinnacle of Alchemy, the Sorcerer's Stone. And when I reached this peak, I sought to apply my utter and complete understanding of the very fabric of magic itself to other pursuits.

"It only took me four days to realize that I hadn't learned a single thing about magic. The stone that others viewed as the pinnacle of alchemy, I viewed as the symbol of my failure. I very nearly smashed it to pieces then and there in anger. I had thought that the ninety years spent studying it had been wasted, and that my life's work had all amounted to a pale mockery of what I had set out to achieve. Back then, it was merely basic arithmetic that stayed my hand. An average wizard typically lived around one-hundred and twenty years back then. One-hundred and twenty minus ninety meant that I should only have thirty years left to study magic. However, one-hundred and twenty minus ninety, plus infinity, meant that if only I used the stone, I could study magic for as long as I wished.

"Over the next five-hundred and eighty-four years I have continued to study the subject, and have come to the conclusion that magic is very simply a part of the World. What I didn't understand in my youthful hubris was that science and logic are a separate part of the world. Certainly, there are areas where they overlap, but that is merely a sliver of each of them. There are sciences that cannot be applied to magic, and magics that cannot be applied to science. The greatest example of this I have found is potions and chemistry.

"Some of the older students among us may know what happens when you add mercury and a tadpole to aqua regia. With the proper timing, heat levels, and stirring, you get a potion that will temporarily de-age someone. This is because of the magical properties of these ingredients. Also, don't try this potion without Professor Snape's approval, without proper technique, it can go catastrophically wrong. That aside, what do you think will happen if a muggle combines these ingredients with the same techniques, and why?"

Several older students raised their hands, in addition to the girl looking for Neville's toad on the train. It took Ivy a few moments to recall her name was Hermione.

"You." The professor pointed towards an older Slytherin.

"Marcus Flint, sir." He introduced himself. "Nothing will happen, because a muggle can't activate the magical properties of the ingredients."

"A textbook answer." The immortal teacher nodded. "And also, completely wrong. Anyone else?"

Only three hands remained in the air. "You." This time, the professor pointed to a Gryffindor student.

"Lee Jordan, sir, and it will still brew into a potion. There are some potions with actively magical ingredients that don't need to be brewed by a wizard." He answered confidently.

"You are correct," The professor paused for a second. "That some potions with actively magical ingredients can be brewed by muggles. However, none of the ingredients of the de-aging potion are magical. Does anyone else care to take a guess?"

Only two hands remained in the air, one belonging Hermione, and another student Ivy didn't know. "You." The professor said.

"Hermione Granger, sir." She answered. "And the mercury and the tadpole will dissolve in the aqua regia because it's a potent acid sir."

"Correct." The professor said. "Five points to Ravenclaw.

"You see, everything in the world has physical, chemical, and magical properties. Aqua Regia has the chemical property of acidity, and the magical property of change. Mercury also has the magical property of change, and the tadpole represents the property of youth. When these are properly combined, the resulting potion has the ability to 'change to youth'. All spells in the world work based on the magical properties of things. Among magi, it is nearly impossible to cast a spell they do not have the elemental affinity for, and even for wizards it is a little more difficult to cast spells you do not personally have affinity for."

A wave of muttering swept through the crowd at the topic of magi. Even Ivy, who was not exactly the picture of social grace, could pick up the unease that single word caused. The new professor had definitely lost the interest of a few of the crowd.

"The reason wizards are even capable of spells without having affinity for them is because wizard-kind are like a single magus." Professor Flamel raised his voice above the din. The students went silent. He hadn't re-taken their interest per se, but he had certainly gathered their anger. "Magus society has always looked down on first-generation magi, or muggle-born students. And it is because of this that wizard-kind were created. Two-hundred or so like-minded magi gathered together to pool their research and show up those magi who thought they were better than the rest of them. They quickly found out, however, that if they cast the same spell at the same time, it was less and less powerful the more people who cast it. However, instead of disbanding and focusing on hoarding their own research and knowledge like the magi who looked down on them, they decided to find a way to overcome this limit.

"They could not find a way to make their spells register as different than each other, but they were able to find a method to make themselves register as a singular entity. The magic crests of magus families each contain the spells of their ancestors, embedded in their magic circuits and added to the crest. Passed down through each generation, more and more circuits and more and more spells are added. The first wizards each sacrificed a single magic circuit to create a communal crest with all of their spells, and more importantly each of their affinities. The next few generations also were required to sacrifice one of their circuits in order to connect to the crest until wands were invented as a pseudo-magic circuit already connected. Their diligence and sacrifice are what allowed future generations of wizards to look down their noses at the magi who struggle desperately for every scrap of knowledge they have. Remember that there are two sides to every story students."

The professor cast a stern gaze out at the crowd. One or two students looked chastised. The rest glared back.

"But I digress." He continued, giving up for the moment on convincing them that not all magi are inherently evil. "Now, all humans have two inherent magical properties; Their element and their origin. Your origin is what you begin life as, and it continues to influence you throughout your life. For example, someone with the origin of 'traveler' would be constantly moving as a child, and find it difficult to settle down in one place as an adult. This typically manifests in the form of impulsive actions. Whereas someone without the origin of 'traveler' might take months to plan a vacation, our example person might frequently go missing at the drop of a hat. Becoming aware of what your origin is makes these impulses much more difficult to deny. In our previous example, a 'traveler' aware of his origin would not be satisfied with random vacations, but would never settle down in the first place. Becoming aware of your origin is therefore a double-edged sword; while you will be able to understand and direct these impulses of yours, their frequency and strength may become problematic at times.

"The element of a person refers to what type of magic they are best at. While the most common are the standard five elements of water, fire, earth, air, and ether, non-standard elements exist also, such as lightning, shadow, or metal. The word element is also a bit of a misnomer in a way, because your elemental affinity doesn't have to even be an element. I once met a man with the elemental affinity of 'seal', who was an uncommonly talented ward-master. Are there any questions so far about elements, origins, and magical properties?"

Ivy raised her hand immediately. It was the only hand in the air, and so she was called on immediately. "I'm Ivy, sir." She said. "If magi are nearly incapable of casting spells without the proper element, then what about the rituals that nearly any magus can participate in, or the basic spells like structural analysis and reinforcement that are taught to all magus beginners?" She voiced her doubt. Her element was fire, and she was nearly incapable of any other magecraft, but there _were_ some spells she could perform.

"An excellent question." He praised. "And there are actually three different answers. The first and simplest answer, is that with enough power, you can brute force any spell into working for you. Spells like structural analysis or reinforcement are of such a low cost in the first place that the brute force method doesn't require much power anyway.

"The second answer is that some spells can be cast with multiple different elements, giving it a slightly different effect. Let's use structural analysis as an example. If someone with the earth element were to cast it on a radio, they would have an easier time understanding what the radio is made from, whereas someone with the ether element would have an easier time understanding the enchantments that make it work and how energy flows through it.

"The third way is the one the wizarding crest uses, that is, to have something else with the proper affinity cast the spell for you. There are many ways of doing this, so I'll only go over the two that wizards use: foci, and writing. Foci are items crafted to focus the magical energy from spells. This is what the wizarding crest is. It contains the element of everyone who ever sacrificed a circuit to it, and allows you to cast spells of those elements. However, it does not contain every element in existence. This is where the second method comes in. Runes and magic circles have different meanings based on how they are written down. If done properly, any spell can be cast just by writing it on something and providing magical energy. This can be done with any language, but it is much harder to do with more modern languages because of 'human common sense', which is part of my next topic in this lecture, so before we move on to that, are there any more questions?"

Hermione's hand was in the air in an instant.

"Miss… Granger, yes?" Professor Flamel asked.

"Sir." Hermione nodded in confirmation. "You spoke earlier about how different magi casting the same spell at the same time weaker, but Ivy listed two spells that are taught to all beginner magi. Why aren't those spells weaker than any other spell? Or are they taught to beginners because they are weakened? If so, how do you understand how much you've progressed if you don't know how many other people are casting the spell?"

"Another excellent question." The immortal smiled. "The answer is that they are actually different spells. The structural analysis spell does exactly what it says, it provides the caster with information about the object they are casting it on. Because no two objects in the world are exactly the same, even if we cast structural analysis at the same time, I am actually casting 'analyze this object', and you are casting 'analyze that object'. In this case, we would both have to cast the spell on the same object at the same time if we for some reason wanted to weaken the spell."

"Why don't magi apply that concept to the rest of their spells then? If such a slight difference makes a completely different spell?"

"That's because this little loophole can't be applied to some spells, and applying it to others would make a spell needlessly complicated or prohibitively costly. Say that we both know the same water spell. It takes three lines to cast the spell, and it produces ten gallons of water. If we both cast it at the same time, it would produce ten gallons of water, but you and I would both only receive five each. I realize that someone else knows my spell, so I change it to produce ten gallons of water in the corner of the room. All of the sudden my three line spell is now five lines long, costs me more energy, and can only make water in the corner of this room. If I want my ten gallons elsewhere, I have to put in all the research to create a completely new spell, and I certainly don't have the time for that."

"But if you think hard enough, I'm sure you could get around those limitations. In this case, you could teach everyone the spell to 'create ten gallons of water above my hand', and it would be a different spell for every person who cast it, right? Then you would only need to spend a little more time and energy to cast the spell, but everyone can do it. Oh, is that the way the wizarding crest works? And magi hoard all their knowledge for just a bit more power?" Hermione passionately argued back.

"I'm impressed that you already understand the fundamentals of capitalism vs. communism at your age. I know far too many adults that don't know the difference." The professor mused whimsically. "But you were wrong about how magic fundamentally works.

"Everything on this world has magical properties based on the will of the world. These can change as the world wills it, but those changes are natural phenomena. We can temporarily override the will of the world by applying magical energy in a specific manner. This is what we call a spell. Because of this, all spells are cast in relation to the world. That's why your solution cannot work. Without a world of your own it is impossible to create a spell relative…"

He trailed off in thought for a moment.

"Actually, it is technically possible, as long as your location within the world remains unchanged. It would then be the same kind of spell as create ten gallons in the corner of the room, except needlessly more complicated by adding distance from that fixed point. However, the moment you move at all, your spell becomes completely impossible to ever perform again. In any case, creating a spell with a fixed location is almost always a very bad idea. There are other variables that can be successfully changed to create a new spell, but there are a finite number of them. In the entire history of magecraft, only a single workaround has been found that allows multiple people to cast the same spell without losing potency.

"The create ten gallons of water spell is limited in it's utility. While the spell is active, there will always be ten gallons of water somewhere in the world. No matter how many people cast the spell, it will only create ten gallons of water total. When a single magus is casting the spell, it is incredibly efficient at its purpose because of its narrowly defined scope.

"If we were to remove the limitation on the amount of water from the spell, we could create a new spell that creates a different amount of water depending on how much energy you use. This spell would be less efficient with magical energy than the spell that creates ten gallons of water only, but it would be more versatile.

"All of the spells within the wizard's crest are the second type of spell. Furthermore, they are all constantly active within the crest, in every corner of the world where magical energy exists. The only thing a wizard has to do then, is to provide magical energy to the correct spell within the crest. Wand movements and incantations help a wizard to activate the correct spell, but they are not necessary as long as a wizard maintains a connection to the crest through their wand, or by sacrificing one of their own magic circuits. I hope that answers any remaining questions you may have had, Miss Granger, because I fear I have drifted quite further away from my lesson plan than I intended."

"Yes, sir." She nodded happily.

"Very good." The Professor replied. "The last topic we will cover for today will be the magical 'weight' of spells. You see, not all spells are created equally. Simply putting more energy into a spell will not make it stronger than a spell with less energy per se. This is because some magics are more potent than others. Magical energy, age, the will of the world, and human common sense are the most common things that cause this phenomenon.

"Magical energy is very self-explanatory. The more power I put in, the more powerful my spell becomes.

"Now, when I say age, I do not mean that my spells are more powerful than Dumbledore's because of the years I have lived. What I mean is how old the spell or object in question is. All other things being equal, a spell made today will be ever so slightly less powerful than a spell made yesterday.

"The will of the world influences magical weight in two ways – passively, and actively. The passive method mostly only works on objects. If I leave a piece of iron in a fire for a day, it will become slightly more attuned to fire element magecraft. If I were to use a piece of iron that has been sitting in the eternal flame for one million years to cast a fire spell, you should pray that you aren't in the way. The active method is happening around you every day. The will of the world likes itself the way it is, and our spells mess with that order. So, it chooses to press its weight down on our spells until they erode into nothing. This is a constant force exerted world-wide. The world can also throw its weight around to enhance spells it likes, or to make them go away quicker in the opposite case.

"And then we come to human common sense. The most important thing to do when you are casting magic, is to believe that you can. Our thoughts, faith, and beliefs all affect our spells in some way. The effect a single person has, however, is very little. On the other hand, when more and more humans believe in something, it becomes more powerful. This is the main reason why runes, ofuda, and sutras are powerful whereas your English essay has never spontaneously caught fire no matter how much you wanted it to. John the English wizard just doesn't have the acclaim that Odin All Father, the kitsune Tamamo no Mae, or the priest Xuanzang Sanzang all earned.

"That will conclude the lecture portion of today's lesson. We'll take a five-minute break here to catch our breaths, and when we come back, the rest of the lesson will be a Q and A session on what we just learned. If you don't have any questions for me, however you are free to leave. I hope I'll be seeing a majority of you here soon, but if not, I will see you in class. Dismissed."

* * *

A/N: The only languages I speak are English, Sarcasm, and half of Spanish. I used online translators heavily here. If anyone wants to correct my grammar or spelling, I'm warning you now that I'm not going to bother reposting the chapter for something like that. That being said, this is what Ivy is saying.

Quenya to English:

Vamme foraime sí: Not right now

Lende me er: Leave me alone

Whime: Why

Mára arinya: Good morning

Nányë: I am

Bime i valaina, ni'm vamme: By the Valar (Oh my God), I'm not

(As an English aside, I spent about twenty minutes trying to figure out how to spell dryly/drily – both are correct, but dryly looks a little better to me)

Procrastinating is my greatest strength. That, and Alcoholism. But it's finally done, so hooray! Also, I wrote most of this in two days, just so you're aware.

This chapter is my best attempt to explain inconsistencies in the magic system of fate, and blend it with that of Harry Potter. If the explanation leaves you more confused than when you started reading it, well you're in the same boat as I am then. The magic system from Fate is a mess, and Harry Potter never really had anything even close to a system in the first place. That said, please let me know if there is something my explanation did not cover, anything that confused you too much, or if I'm just stupid and these two series actually do have some sort of recognizable and consistent explanations.

I mean seriously, how can you say that two people merely knowing the same spell halves it's strength _and_ that every single magus knows how to do reinforcement, projection, and structural analysis yet they still somehow work? It literally only works if you consider each object in the world to have completely different properties that makes the spell different every time you try it. Fate magecraft is complete and utter bullshit. I really do like the series though… Seriously.

Also, I realize that magic in Fate means true magic. Flamel does not mean that every little spell is true magic. It's just that the culture of the wizarding world is different, because they don't have to understand their spells to make them work, the wizard's crest does that for them. Ergo, their magecraft really does seem like magic to them.


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